Titanfall: Dead Men Walking
by TheDustyScrub
Summary: Five years after the battle of Demeter, the war for the frontier rages on until a discrete Syndicate begins a series of attacks on the Frontier Republic. In response to this new threat, legendary pilot Captain Orion is brought back to the fight, putting his years-long search on hold. Alongside his Titan VC-5394, Captain Orion must seek out and destroy this new threat to stability.
1. Captain Orion

" _To every man upon this Earth, death cometh soon or late. And how can a man die better, than facing fearful odds for the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his gods?" - Lays of Ancient Rome  
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 **FIVE YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE OF DEMETER  
** **FREEPORT SYSTEM, RECENTLY LIBERATED ANGEL CITY**

The rain poured relentlessly, harassing the city goers of the recently liberated Angel City. It was only midday, but with the clouds it looked much later. Neon signs reflected brightly off the drenched pavement, leftover decorations from the Frontier Republic liberation party littered the skyline and streets - traits of a busy metropolis that was active day and night, rain or shine. Those who wished not to be drenched by the bombardment of rain took shelter wherever they could, overcrowding local bars and shops.

Mike's Downtown Pub was no different.

Dozens of patrons dug in, ordering drinks while they waited out the storm.

Many had to stand as the seats around the bar and booths alike were all occupied.

A lone Militia pilot managed to get one of the seats around the bar, having been there awhile, staring lifelessly at the screen while he drank. It was a common known fact that one could tell a lot about a person just by observing them in the Frontier. The soldier was no exception to this fact. Many patrons observed him.

The pilot had tired sapphire blue eyes, which were distant and unfocused. His hair, while short enough to be a identifiable as a soldier, was messy and ruffled, likely cramped in his helmet for quite some time. His facial hair was overdue for a shave. The man likely went a day or two without shaving, leaving significant stubble on his face. His face, relatively young but hardened, had a scar travelling along his cheek and down his lip. He stank of sweat and alcohol, common traits of a Pilot it would seem.

The standout pilot leaned against the bar, resting his head in his arms.

"Another shot of Whiskey." The man abruptly demanded.

Upon hearing the request, the bartender knelt, retrieving a bottle and poured the dark liquid into the Soldier's glass.

Without hesitation, the man downed the drink and slammed the glass back onto the bartop.

"Want another?" The bartender asked, hoping to continue making a pretty penny off the thirsty warrior.

"No. That's it."

"Alright, well you just lemme know if you change yer' mind. Glad to serve the boys in green." The bartender nodded and went on to serve other customers.

The Pilot ignored the attempt at feigned flattery and instead focused on the TV screen suspended crudely from atop the bar.

A smoking building with the headline "Attack on Harmony" was plastered on the screen, garnering the Pilot's full attention.

"Hey, can you turn on the volume?" The Soldier pointed to the TV screen when the bartender looked over his shoulder to respond.

"Hmm? Sure thing."

The bartender grabbed the remote from behind the counter and turned the volume up.

" _Reports are coming in from multiple sources! What at this time appears to be a terrorist attack, took place less than an hour ago on this Frontier Republic facility, claiming the lives of several Frontier Republic Militia soldiers and high ranking leaders! This has been the third attack on the Frontier Republic this month! So far, no one has claimed responsibility for these attacks and it certainly does not appear to be an IMC military operation! IMC operations seem to have taken a decline after Pilot Jack Cooper and the SRS led an assault against the IMC's experimental Fold Weapon facility! Currently, Frontier Republic Minister of Defence Marcus Graves and President Day have made no statement regarding the attack! With no clear motive or witnesses, it is unclear who is waging this private war against the Frontier Republic! We'll keep you updated when more reports come in!_ "

The soldier exhaled loudly from his nose and cursed. "God damn it…"

"Know anybody there?" A voice asked, disturbing the Pilot's trance.

The soldier looked to his right, expecting to see someone sitting next to him. He raised a brow when he saw no one in the stool to his right.

"Down here."

The Militia pilot looked down, seeing a man in a wheelchair looking up at the screen. It took the soldier a moment to process the oddity of the situation, but he carried on.

"Yeah. A couple." He finally answered before looking back at the screen with a tinge of pain in his eyes.

"Then what brings you out here, Pilot? I thought all the Militia troops pulled out after the celebration?"

"Had some personal business to attend to, I'm looking for someone."

"Oh? Job well done? Celebrating over a drink?"

"Wouldn't say celebrating. More like reminiscing."

The soldier pointed to a tattered sketchbook resting atop the bar next to his empty glass. Assorted sketches and printed photos were a common place among the pages.

"Still looking?" The man asked, unable to get a view of the photos from where he sat.

"Yeah." The Militia pilot tapped the bartender on the shoulder as he passed, requesting another shot against his better judgement.

"I'm looking for someone, too."

"Bartender, make that two." The Pilot added to his order, buying a drink for the crippled man.

"Thanks, you're too kind."

"Who are you looking for?" The pilot handed a glass to the Wheelchair ridden man, either not having heard the compliment, or choosing to ignore it deliberately.

"My daughter."

"Missing?"

"Has been for years. My wife...she...passed some time ago. And after losing my legs in the war, we fell out. I've been looking for her ever since."

"You fought in the war? What unit?"

"Titan Wars, youngster. Before your time. Must say though, son. That's a fine rifle you've got. Had one like that myself."

The man admired the G2A4 slung from the Pilot's shoulder.

"Titan Wars? Didn't think there were many of you veterans left. What are you doing all the way out here? And thanks...It...belonged to a friend."

"I know my daughter came out here, running off on some adventure. And I guess I'm stuck here since Demeter is out of commission."

"...Right...Sorry about that..."

"Don't be. Gives me time to think and search."

The pilot's gauntlet began to blink rapidly, alerting the soldier of an incoming call coming from his wrist pad.

"One second." The soldier downed his whiskey and pressed his wrist pad, accepting the call.

The screen displayed a woman. Commander Sarah Briggs of the Militia SRS.

"Commander." The Pilot acknowledged, fixing his slightly intoxicated and agitated tone, showing her due respect.

"Captain." The woman nodded. "Where have you been?"

"Angel City. Did a little bit of searching after we wrapped up here."

Commander Briggs sighed, showing either pity or slight annoyance for the Pilot. It was unclear.

"I need you back. I'm sure you've seen the news."

"Yes, ma'am." The soldier confirmed. "Was just watching. Got anything yet?"

"That's why I'm calling. Day and Graves need you back here asap. We've got a job to do."

"Understood, Ma'am. I'm on my way."

The call ended, returning the data pad to a dark screen resting on the Pilot's wrist.

Getting off the bar stool, the soldier reached for his helmet and left the money he owed on the table top, preparing to leave.

"Nice speaking with you, but duty calls." The Pilot gently placed his helmet over his head.

A light blue soon lit up the bar, coming from his visor.

"I hope you find your daughter."

The pilot unslung his rifle and began walking for the door.

"I hope you find whoever it is you're looking for as well, Soldier." The man raised his glass out of respect. "...I didn't catch your name, though."

The Pilot looked over his shoulder, noticing he had caught much of the bar's attention. Obviously it was no coincidence that he was sprung into action after watching the news.

"Caleb."

Captain Orion nodded and stepped out into the rain.

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 _ **TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING**_

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 _A/N: ROUND TWO! Caleb and the Militia are back to fight for the Frontier yet again in the sequel! Updates may be a little slow since I've got to balance this and my flagship story; Strangers in a Strange Land. But obviously with the completion of Titanfall the Frontier, I put my money where my mouth was and stuck with the whole "Finish whatever I start" mantra. So this will get the love it deserves. Trust me I've spent a long time waiting for the chance to finish up the first one and write the continuation. Hope you guys like it, I'm really hyped for it!_

 _Let's do this!_

 _-Dan, The Dusty Scrub._


	2. Should You Choose To Accept It

_"The end you always feared is coming, and the blood will be on your hands...The Fallout of all your good intentions..." - Solomon Lane_

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 ** _TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING_**

 _CHAPTER 2: SHOULD YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT IT_ _ **  
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 **THE FRONTIER  
** **FREEPORT SYSTEM - PLANET HARMONY  
** **DAMAGED FRONTIER REPUBLIC STATION  
** **FRONTIER REPUBLIC PILOT CORPS  
** **CAPTAIN CALEB ORION**

Captain Orion breezed past the security checkpoints that completely secured the perimeter of the facility. Since the attack, no one was allowed in with the exception of high ranking investigators and officers. An entire platoon of Frontier Republic Infantry, as well as a Titan squadron had been stationed temporarily around the facility to ensure that no press or civilians had wandered in.

When the Captain himself approached, he was briefly challenged by a Private, who immediately stepped back upon seeing exactly who it was he was speaking with. As it turned out, there were some perks to being deemed a Militia war hero, even if you didn't believe it yourself.

The lone pilot treaded the well lit and muddy grounds, passing numerous fireteams and patrols who would all make comments, wondering if it was really him every time they passed. Whatever grass and nice landscape had been reduced to trampled mud the moment first responders had shown up to investigate the attack. And once the rain had set in, things got muddy.

It was the dead of night, and yet, with all the floodlights set up for the investigation, one could still see the now dissipating smoke still coming from the futuristic facility. Caleb observed the building as it drew nearer. Some external scorching and bullet holes. To be expected, he thought to himself.

What disturbed him was the collection of body bags lined up outside the main entrance. At least two dozen. The blood stained white sheets already began to reek and the attack was less than twenty four hours ago.

He stopped, turning to face the collection of corpses.

He'd seen his fair share, and yet it was never easier.

 _At least these families have bodies to bury._

Caleb pounded the side of his helmet, cursing himself for thinking like that.

The Captain took a knee and removed his helmet, placing it down next to him.

Orion lifted one of the sheets, to observe one of the many brave men and women they'd just lost.

A young soldier, stared back with motionless, lifeless eyes.

" _When you get home...Can you tell my mom and Dad I love them?"_

The voice of his long-dead best friend replayed in his head, the deceased warrior reminding him of their assault on Airbase Sierra just before Demeter more than five years ago.

Caleb immediately covered the young man's head and deeply exhaled from his nose, slightly trembling as he did. The captain placed his helmet back upon his head, getting to his feet as he did.

"Soldier." Caleb gestured to the lone Militia soldier guarding the entrance.

"Yes, Sir?"

"Radio your chain of command. I want these boys out of the rain and sent home. _Now_."

"Yes, Sir! Right away." The soldier hastily retrieved his radio, complying without hesitation.

Captain Orion stepped indoors, getting away from the mass grave as quickly as he could. It brought up too many memories that he eagerly wished to forget. He grunted and made haste for the elevators located in the lobby of the facility, hoping they were still accessible during the lockdown.

Most of the lobby was still intact. It was a fair assumption that most of the fighting took place upstairs. Banners and recruitment posters still flew in the lobby, reminding the everyday citizen that the Militia was no longer just that...A Militia...It was a standing army. A government. A Republic which democratically elected their leader upon officially declaring independence. Of course the IMC denounced and refused to recognize the new entity and would continue to combat them as nothing more than rebels, but it was a false hope.

Whatever the IMC tried, they had failed to stop the Frontier from becoming a self governing entity.

Of course they were still referred to as the Militia, for tradition, but the Frontier Republic Armed Forces now had a substantial military that was capable enough to combat the still present IMC threat as well as piracy when necessary.

Passing more recruitment propaganda and more patrols, the Captain stopped at the elevator console and pressed the key, summoning an elevator.

A mechanical whirring caught the Captain's attention. He looked to his left, seeing a Marvin bot sweeping an assortment of debris.

The Soldier rolled his eyes and stepped into the elevator when it finally came.

The glass tube gave an impressive view of the landscape below. Peaceful countryside with an assortment of buildings, though hard to see in the darkness, would normally make a wonderful day time occurance for the staff working in the facility.

The elevator slowly began to rise.

The view was not pleasant to Caleb though. He hated heights. Looking down made his stomach churn and made the image of the chasm that consumed Allison and Maren flash in his head.

He turned his back to avoid thinking about it. Caleb leaned against the glass window and cautiously reached into his jacket. He tried to stop himself but he couldn't. He took out his very old sketch book, which was tattered and fraying at the edges. Opening the book, he turned to page he bookmarked with an assortment of photos.

On the page was an old sketch of an IMC pilot. A sniper, donning the equipment of Captain Allison Sorin prior to her defection to the Militia.

" _You always did like to sketch pilots, didn't you? You had a fascination with us._ "

The man nodded.

" _Always so excited to show off whatever you had drawn next. You tried to convince others that it wasn't a drawing of me. You turned as red as a tomato…_ "

Caleb chuckled, tracing the image with his shaking thumb.

Keeping the page bookmarked were three photographs that the soldier had printed years ago. His parents, who still supported him no matter where he went or what he had to do.

The next, a team photo. Philip Spear and Eric Keller. His best friends in the galaxy. There wasn't a day that went by in which he didn't think of the two of them. He wished he had Keller's skill and experience in several missions he'd gone on. He wished he had Philip's humour and positive outlook. Maybe he wouldn't want to kickstart a landmine everytime he had to face a new day.

The last photo he couldn't even look at. He made a promise to keep it, but struggled to stay together every time he observed it. The pilot closed the booklet and briefly removed his helmet, wiping his face.

" _Come on, that's my favorite photo…_ "

The Soldier nodded again.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the elevator stopped. The doors repealed, revealing a large open conference room that had obviously taken damage during the attack. Overturned chairs and tables were littered around the room with numerous gunshot marks on the walls. Blood splatters still left uncleaned were also a common place.

Several groups of high ranking Republic officials and soldiers were gathered around, discussing details of the investigation amongst themselves.

In the center of the room, two Militia soldiers, one of them a pilot, spoke with Commander Sarah Briggs and two other very familiar Militia officers.

"Well I'll be damned, if it isn't Captain Caleb Orion!" _Barker_ , of all people, threw his arms up upon seeing the Pilot enter the scene at last.

"Damn, it sure has been a while!" Bish was there in person as well, which was always a rare sight.

The Captain had a small smile beneath his helmet and stepped forward, extending his hand for a shake.

Barker slapped the hand away and pulled the soldier in for a hug, patting the mentally exhausted pilot on the back.

"It's been too long, kid." Barker said, putting his usual humorous demeanor on hold for a serious conversation. "How ya doin'...?"

"I'm alive. But I'm glad to see you. Both of you."

"It's good to see you too, man." Bish pat the man's shoulder. "Good to have you back. Heard what you did in the retaking of Angel City, that was some kick ass soldiering buddy."

"Well, I was in the neighbourhood, figured I could give a hand."

Amidst their conversation, Commander Briggs approached, accompanied by the two soldiers she had been speaking with.

"Captain." She addressed him.

The Pilot came to attention and offered a salute to the commander. One which she returned.

"Relax, please. Feels kind of weird having you salute me of all people…"

"Sorry ma'am. Force of habit."

The pilot shrugged it off and continued with the crisis at hand.

"What do we got?" He asked.

"We'll go over the details soon, but first I want you to meet Lieutenant Terra Wright and Warrant Officer Iroh."

The two soldiers removed their helmets and saluted Captain Orion.

Lieutenant Wright, Caleb observed first. A woman, perhaps slightly younger and shorter than him. She appeared to be a grapple capable pilot judging by her equipment. Her hair stood out the most, amber. Her eyes were a slightly darker blue in contrast to his own sapphire eyes. Her armor was the standard militia green, however given brown accents in order to effectively camouflage her equipment.

Warrant Officer Iroh, an older looking Asian man with some experience. A grunt, but that didn't make him any less of a soldier, Caleb knew that first hand. His armor had plenty of scratches likely collected over a long career of warfare. What caught Captain Orion's attention the most was that several pieces of his equipment were parts of pilot kits, all mashed together to form his uniform. Was he once a pilot? Caleb couldn't guess.

Caleb quickly returned the salute, hating the idea of being on the receiving end of one, and extended his hand.

"Lieutenant, Warrant." The Captain nodded.

"It's an honor, Sir." Wright beamed.

Before the Captain could speak again, a lone figure emerged from the crowd. Marcus Graves.

"What is he doing here?" Caleb asked, coming off more hostile than intended.

"Caleb, he's the minister of defence, of course he's gonna want to know what's happening…" Briggs explained.

The Minister of Defence gestured the crowd over to a lowering screen.

"Come on, the President is going to want to know you're here." Briggs beckoned the crowd to follow her.

"Me? The hell does Day want with me?"

"Guess we'll find out." Barker shrugged.

The crowd assembled around the screen, and shortly thereafter, the image of Frontier Republic President Abigail Day appeared, sitting in her office at the Frontier Republic capitol building elsewhere on Harmony.

The entire room came to attention upon her appearance. Graves saluted.

"Ladies and gentlemen, relax. Thank you for coming. As I'm sure Marcus has already informed you, I must stress that the information disclosed here in this meeting is highly classified. If we are to avoid a panic, we have to be discrete."

Postures relaxed all around the room upon her word.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, this is the third attack in the last month against us. This can no longer be treated as _isolated_ incidents of scattered anarchists in the Frontier. Someone just declared war on us, and we need to know who. We cannot afford to fight another war while we are so close to gaining the advantage over the IMC. We cannot lose the momentum that Pilot Jack Cooper gained us last month with the destruction of the IMC's fold weapon."

Several officers and investigators retrieved their data pads to jot down important details from Day's briefing.

"Despite what little detail we have given to the media to prevent a panic, we have noticed several trends found in all three attacks. First, they are targeting Militia leadership specifically. We don't believe the goal is assassination foremost. No, we believe they are looking for something, and the only way to find it is through the higher ups...It always ends in bloody torture as I'm sure you've all seen the result of."

Caleb looked around the room and reeled upon closer inspection of the blood stains.

"All attempts at combating the enemy with conventional forces has been met with one hundred percent casualties. They don't leave witnesses. However, before one of our units...expired...They managed to assault an enemy craft and place a recon tracking device on its hull. According to the data we've recovered, the enemy is on the move to planet Alexandria, a colony with a Frontier Republic facility and garrison located there. In recent months, the garrison there has been combating pirates from Jacob Herrick's Marauders, so they will likely be unprepared for a full scale assault by such an elite enemy."

Caleb cursed under his breath, catching the attention of a couple people in the crowd. They all knew him and his hatred for the Marauders. What they did on Demeter and before. If there was any chance to fight back, Caleb was interested.

"Even if we send a unit there, there is no way to know what they could find, or if they'd come back. Therefore we need more intelligence. Jack Cooper will personally lead the investigation into this new threat alongside the 4th Militia Grenadiers."

 _Gotta meet this Cooper Kid..._ In recent history, Cooper was the talk of the town regarding the Militia forces.

"Captain Orion, are you present?" Day asked, casing the crowd closely.

He immediately stepped forward, puzzled as to what she could possibly gain from his simple presence in the meeting.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm here."

"Good, I'm glad to have you with us, you'll no doubt be invaluable to this team."

Caleb cocked a brow. "Ma'am?"

"Captain, you will head to Alexandria with the 9th Fusiliers alongside Lieutenant Wright to provide assistance where necessary and hopefully learn more about what's going on. If there's trouble, I want one of our best down there. You will coordinate closely with Commander Briggs and Commander Barker in order to relay intelligence back to us at command."

Orion wasn't sure whether or not to be flattered that he was regarded so highly by the President, or insulted that he was being sent into the most hostile unknown scenario he could think of. Regardless, he sighed quietly behind his helmet and nodded.

"Understood, Ma'am. We'll get it done."

"Captain, you should know, this threat is using a similar play book to the Apex Predators that Cooper encountered, led by Kuben Blisk. We aren't sure exactly, but if you come in contact...don't hesitate. Deadly force is authorized."

The Captain nodded, understanding full well he was being ordered to kill them if he saw them.

Fine by him.

"Yes, ma'am."

President Day continued to speak regarding their plan and importance of its success.

Caleb lost all focus when he saw a figure leaning against the screen.

A lone woman, donning a Militia green jumpsuit. Her hair was jet black and flowed freely. She watched him with a smile, her emerald green eyes piercing right through him.

Captain Orion's head tilted and he took a half pace forward, tempted to sprint over and see if she was real. He turned to the side, looking at Barker, hoping he saw it too. The man focused solely on the President's dialogue.

His hand found his holster, nervously fiddling with the release.

The figure tilted her head and smiled warmly at him before gesturing him over. When he didn't move her smile faded. She extended her hand, reaching for him, begging him to come. She cried and began to scream, tortured by his inactivity.

" _CALEB!_ "

Barker shook the pilot violently to get his attention.

"Kid, go on, say something!"

He shook his head and took quick shallow breaths, failing to calm down. After a few moments he realized that everyone was staring at him, silently. The President looked at him expectantly, awaiting an answer.

"Are you still with us, Captain?" President Day asked, tilting her head.

Caleb looked by the screen, still expecting to see the nightmare staring back at him. Nothing was there.

He took a deep breath then refocused.

"...Yes...Yes, Ma'am. I...I apologize I haven't gotten much sleep since the Angel City campaign...please, uhh...continue, I didn't mean to disrupt your briefing."

"Understandable, be sure to get some rest after we conclude here...I asked if you had any final questions before we finish up?"

He looked around, still seeing everyone watch him. He hated the attention with an intense passion.

"...No ma'am. Thank you."

"Very well. In that case, I believe we're all done here. Good luck everyone, thank you for your efforts. Keep me posted. Day out."

The screen went black.

Caleb exhaled loudly and stared at the floor, removing his helmet before wiping his brow free of stress induced sweat.

"You alright?" Barker nudged him. "You spaced out pretty bad there."

"I'm fine, just really tired." He lied. "And just really good at making a fool of myself in public."

Wright and Iroh stared at the Captain with slight confusion. Either because he was so odd and now they'd be deploying with him, or because he was so young for a pilot of his stature. Perhaps some of the stories were blown out of proportion. But this young soldier wasn't even thirty by the looks of it.

"Well, can't disagree there." Barker mocked.

Wright took a step forward, hoping to speak with the Captain. "Commander Barker, Sir...May I speak with Captain Orion?"

"Sure thing, kid. Go nuts."

Barker pat Caleb on the back, gave him a thumbs up and returned to the crowd of investigators who were now consolidating their efforts regarding their new task.

Caleb kept his helmet under his arm and turned to face the Lieutenant.

"Sir, I was going to recommend that we go over our strategy together. Just so we have a set of standard operating procedures once we hit the ground."

"Way I see it, Lieutenant." Orion started. "It's your unit, they're your men. I trust you know how to lead them alongside Warrant Iroh. I won't get in your way. I'm just there to kill bad guys before they kill us."

"...Nevertheless, Sir."

"What do you want me to do? Give you advice?!"

"Well, as a matter of fact, I don't think that'd be such a bad idea, Sir. You're a hero. You're one of the reasons we have a Republic at all...Who doesn't want to learn from someone like that?"

Caleb sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Being a role model definitely was not a check on the bucket list. She was making a mistake, and she'd have to learn that herself.

"Fine. Tip one, don't call me Sir. Tip two, don't ever call me a hero. I'm not a hero, I was in the wrong place at the right time."

Wright nodded, slowly, not really understanding, but following his order nonetheless.

"And just...let me speak with some of the officers first, okay? Gotta get a clearer picture and then I've got to go pick up my Titan."

"Of course, Si-...Right. Well, I mean we've got some Titans on board already if you wanted to pick out a new model."

"Nah...VC goes with me everywhere. Best Titan in the fleet, and, he's got a smokin' Vanguard Chassis. I go, he goes."

"Fair enough. I'll gather the men and wait on the Redeye for you, whenever you're ready."

"The Redeye?!" Caleb nearly yelled.

Wright took a step back, not expecting such a reaction.

"...Yes? The Redeye? The Ship you and your team liberated the Frontier with?"

Of course it was the Redeye...Caleb sighed.

"Alright...I'll be there in no more than an hour."

"Roger that, Sir-...Fuck that's really gonna be a pain in the ass...I'll see you down there…" The Lieutenant and her Warrant left, leaving the Captain alone for some peace and quiet.

The Captain rolled his eyes and retreated to the secluded hallway that had been deserted since the attack. The soldier leaned against the wall and enjoyed the solitude that the hallway gave him, hiding away from the curious eyes of the investigators and higher ups.

Hell, with that many officers in the room, including the Minister of Defence, he was shocked that the enemy didn't come back to finish the job. Not that he was complaining at their lack of an appearance. He wasn't even entirely sure what he was dealing with, and now he was being ordered right into the middle of it.

He sighed and slid down the wall, burying his head in his arms, nearly falling asleep there.

"Caleb?" A voice called out for him.

Captain Orion slowly lifted his head, scared to see who was calling him, unsure if it was real or not.

Thankfully and unthankfully, it was Marcus Graves.

"What do you want, Marcus?"

"Well, I came to check up on you. Had me worried back there."

"I'm fine, just tired like I said."

" _Right_. You've been silent for quite some time. You jumped back in for several campaigns, then went dark. That cycle continued until we're standing here right now. I gave you that time off for a reason."

"I'm _fine_."

"No, you aren't. It's funny how much you are like MacAllan. He was stubborn, even when he was under my command." Graves chuckled, thinking back fondly of the time he spent with MacAllan in the old IMC.

"Well MacAllan isn't here anymore, Graves."

"I'm aware."

"In fact, there are a lot of good people that I could use right now, who aren't here, because of _you._ " Caleb hissed.

"I thought we were past this years ago, Caleb. Are we really going to do this again?"

Graves had given up threatening disciplinary action against the Pilot. After all, they needed him. No point in antagonizing him further. Even if Graves detested his attitude...

"Yeah, well maybe I just had more time to think…"

"We were at war, Caleb...Look, I can't be bothered to get into this. We're both too old for this. It happened, I've apologized. I know that can't bring Keller, Spear, MacAllan or Allison back. But stop doing this to yourself. You're a good man, you don't need to torture yourself anymore."

Caleb got to his feet and went for the door, not wanting to discuss it any further with the man.

"If you'll excuse me, Minister. I have a new war to fight."

"And what will you do if it really does turn out to be the Apex Predators?"

"I'll kill them like I was ordered to."

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 _A/N: Chapter Two done! Sorry if it was a little short, just trying to make back some lost time and really kick off the story here. Hope you guys enjoy it. More where that came from. I hope you guys like the new cast as well. Obviously Caleb is still Caleb, but he's different. With a pinch of some spicy edge lord, more stoic and obviously has a few mental issues kicking around. Excited to show you guys more of Wright, Iroh and Day, though. They've been a lot of fun during the planning phase._


	3. And The Horse You Rode In On

_"What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know, goes away in the end." - Johnny Cash, Hurt._

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 **TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING**

 _CHAPTER 3: AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON_

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 **THE FRONTIER  
** **FREEPORT SYSTEM - PLANET HARMONY  
** **MCS REDEYE - DRY DOCK  
** **CAPTAIN CALEB ORION**

The cabin door slid open, revealing a dark and dusty room, appearing to be untouched for several years.

Captain Orion stepped inside with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Lieutenant Wright following close behind.

"No one's been in this room for five years. At least, that's what I was told by the previous crew. Everything should be as it was left." Wright examined the room, and then the Captain, watching his mannerisms closely.

She was studying him, looking for something about him that made him such an impeccable warrior. At least that was what she heard from the stories. For the new officer, analyzing was what she was good at. Orion, however, was not easy to study. He gave little physical cues and spoke even less. An oddity, the Lieutenant thought.

The pilot stayed silent, his head slowly scanning from left to right, taking in every inch of the room. He walked to the center of the room after flicking the lightswitch on.

The dim light flickered every few moments, in desperate need of maintenance or a replacement. Caleb's attention was brought to a glare, reflecting off a cracked mirror suspended from a dark brown wall that matched much of the old style Militia warship dorms. The mirror was cracked from the center, where it was missing several shards of glass and was stained by a dried red liquid.

"It's...All yours if you _want_ it." The Lieutenant awkwardly awaited a response from the silent soldier.

Caleb's duffel bag dropped from his shoulder, making an audible crash when it impacted the steel floor. He took in every detail and every memory that came with it.

The sudden loud crash made the Lieutenant flinch. She fidgeted, becoming uncomfortable with the silence. She tapped her foot and finally spoke again.

"...I can move you to another room, if this won't do-"

"It's fine, Lieutenant." Caleb finally spoke after taking a long gaze at himself in the flickering mirror. "This'll do."

"Right." The Lieutenant nodded before noticing Orion staring himself down in the mirror, with a new level of hatred she couldn't even fathom. "...I'll umm...I'll go make sure we're ready to launch, meet me on the bridge whenever you're ready, Sir."

The woman slowly stepped out of the Cabin, giving the Captain some room, shutting the door behind him.

Caleb sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a handful of the old bed cover in his hand. His grip tightened, remembering the feeling of the material.

He quickly got to his feet and walked around, inspecting the cabin for any other relics of his past. Opening the closet, Caleb looked through the old style Militia combat uniforms and Sniper jumpsuits. One item, caught and kept his attention, however. There was nothing special about it, it was just a green hoodie with the Militia's now famous logo on the right side of the chest. His hoodie that Allison would regularly borrow.

He unzipped his heavy combat coat, dropping it with his discarded duffel bag. Sliding his arms through the sleeves and zipping the lightweight garment up, the officer looked in the mirror, feeling a lot younger now that he had his hoodie back. Regardless of what little joy it brought though, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong, and Allison should still be there, wearing it.

Caleb sighed again, looking down at the ground, wondering why he kept getting pulled in by the Militia, as his intense will to fight fell off a building five years ago. And yet he was back in the same spot, wearing the same uniform. It wasn't that he didn't care what happened to the Frontier. No, it was a sense of exhaustion, physically and mentally. He had tried convincing himself during the ride over to the Redeye that if he could prepare Wright and her troops for the new phase of the war, than perhaps finally a tired warrior could have his rest. He tried, and still hadn't fully convinced himself yet.

" _What's wrong, Caleb? You look exhausted._ "

Caleb looked up, seeing a much younger version of himself in the mirror, wearing grey IMC fatigues, joined by a Pilot wearing a similarly coloured jumpsuit. The woman leaned against the wall behind him, her arms crossed, a signature concerned expression painted on her face.

He looked over his shoulder, expecting to see someone there, staring back. And there she was. Caleb groaned and smacked his forehead, trying to snap out of it. He knew she wasn't really there.

"...Why won't you just leave me alone…"

" _Last time you asked me to leave you alone, that didn't really go over well, did it?_ "

Caleb grit his teeth and clenched his fists, trying with every ounce of his being to withhold his rage.

"What the _fuck_ did you just say to me?"

" _Truth is, I'm here because you want me to be. You don't want to be alone._ "

"So what is this then? You're _dead_ , I'm _here_...like the punchline of some _sick joke_? I get it, okay? I'm a failure, is that what you wanted to hear? You gonna follow me around until I put a bullet in my head or something? Huh? Gonna scream at me, make me remember that god damn moment everytime I see a photo of you?"

The soldier pointed and went on the offensive. The apparition just stood there, listening to him rant like she always would.

" _No. I just want you to let go and forgive yourself._ "

Caleb turned his back while running a hand through his hair, grabbing a chunk of his locks in stress.

"I can't."

" _Why, Caleb? You can't spend your life hating yourself and hiding behind that helmet. They need you_."

"You know who else needed me? James MacAllan, Eric Keller, Philip Spear….Allison Sorin. _You_ needed me. I can't let you go...because _you_ were my everything, and without you I've got nothing left..."

" _We both know that isn't true…_ "

"No. No we don't."

Caleb went for the door, more than finished with their conversation.

" _Caleb, don't go. Not again. Take my hand._ "

Captain Orion stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.

"You're not real..."

The soldier left, not looking back despite the cries of his name ringing in his ears.

He had remembered off by heart where the bridge was and wasted no time making his way there, now only focused on the mission.

Captain Orion stopped in front of the massive door and was immediately granted access by the two star struck guards controlling entry to the bridge.

Once the dishevelled officer stepped in, he could immediately see where the changes had been made to update the war ship. New technology likely reverse engineered from IMC equipment replaced the primarily civilian modified equipment they were using back in the day, much like their warfighting equipment as well. He took note of the doubled crew as well, now that the militia had the numbers to field a fully operational military.

"Captain Orion, over here."

A man called for Caleb. Warrant Iroh.

Joined by the Lieutenant and numerous Sergeants, Caleb could assume this was the key leadership of the platoon he'd be overlooking in a sense.

"What do we have?" Caleb marched his way over to the display renovated display console, looking much newer than the hobbled together mess kept functioning by Bish and MacAllan's efforts half a decade prior.

"The ship is fully operational and is ready to leave immediately. We're hauling a full complement of crow dropships and a couple fighter squadrons, giving you leathernecks some support. We've also added an additional Titanbay for numerous titan squad deployments." The Redeye's new commanding officer, Captain McKay, made the ships status known to the Pilot before turning the Wright. "We'll get your men there in no time, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Wright nodded. "Thank you, Sir. We should probably get moving as soon as possible once Commander Barker and Briggs get aboard, it could take us some time to get there."

"Of course, I'll have the crew get us in the air soon, touch base with me once your briefing is complete."

McKay turned to leave before stopping.

"One more thing. You should know, Lieutenant. I've had the communications team try to raise the colony but we're having difficulty. At this time it's unknown if it's on our end or theirs. I'll let you know once we establish successful contact."

The Naval officer dismissed himself, retreating towards the pilot station, informing his flight crew of their destination and imminent departure.

"This complicates things." Iroh muttered, unamused.

Lieutenant Wright sighed and hoped it was an issue with the Redeye's equipment rather than fearing the worst.

Wright turned to the senior Pilot, Caleb, and watched him expectantly. "Sir?" She gestured to the tactical display.

"Your briefing, Lieutenant, don't let me stop you." The scruffy pilot crossed his arms and planted himself next to her in the briefing.

Nervously, the officer stepped forward. The Sergeants came in closer, preparing their notepads.

"...Before we begin, allow me to introduce you to Captain Orion, President Day personally attached him to the unit for this mission, so be sure to thank the good Madam President for sending us the extra platoon." Wright cracked a joke, trying to break the ice; comparing the Captain to an entire platoon.

A handful of the NCOs chuckled, briefly looked up to the Captain and immediately fell silent when they saw him simply observing the display patiently.

"...Anway, moving on." Wright cleared her throat. "We'll be the Vanguard for this mission. Jack Cooper will be bringing the 4th Grenadiers once they wrap up their investigation here, but for now, we're on our own. We'll arrive at Alexandria, get on the ground and establish an all around defence of the village and investigate possible reasons for assault and avenues of approach."

A couple of the men sighed, unsure how they were supposed to tell their troops they'd have little reinforcements outside the Redeye and it's air support.

"A colony goes dark and we're supposed to waltz in there with a heavy platoon and secure it against, so far, an enemy that we can't kill. I don't like it Ter."

"So far." Warrant Iroh stated.

Terra Wright raised her hand, silencing the group for a moment. "Look, John, I don't like it either. But for all we know, they haven't even gotten there yet. Could just be Marauders giving the local garrison too much trouble.."

"I'm not too sure." Caleb interjected.

Wright raised a brow. "What makes you say that?"

"The Marauders run by Herrick are…let's say, 'loosely' organized. Even less so now that Herrick's been hiding from public eye like a coward."

John Krauss, the Sergeant who spoke moments ago, leaned onto the display, tilting his head. "What does that do for us, Sir?"

"I don't think a couple of Marauders looking to swipe guns, money or a couple people to sell into slavery on the black market could take out a Garrison of troops and entire Frontier Republic colony filled with armed colonists."

"Meaning?"

"Expect a fight. A _real_ fight."

A couple quiet whispers of discontent emerge from the small crowd of leadership.

"If we get there first," Wright reassured, "We can link up with the unit there and mount a proper defence, right?" The Lieutenant looked to the Captain for help, hoping her plan was feasible.

The Captain nodded slowly, agreeing with the junior officer to ensure the NCOs would fall in line.. "Of course. Good call, Lieutenant."

"Ter, what happens if we _don't_ get there first?"

Wright was slightly uncomfortable having to face the prospect of showing up too late to find a bunch of dead colonists and fellow troops, but it was a good question.

"Well…" She sighed. "Then we-"

"We kill em' all." Orion interrupted. "The Lieutenant's orders stand. We secure the colony and if we get contacted, we _win_."

"With respect, Sir. You make it sound like it's going to be easy."

"No, but it's our job. So we'll use our small numbers and air support to our advantage. If we get contacted, we lead an enemy force into a killzone and if our machine guns don't take them down, I'd bet that a strike from the Redeye or it's fast reaction squadrons could."

"Excellent." Wright exclaimed. "Wagner, you and your heavy weapons detachment will stay with the Captain, who will site your machine gun positions if we come under contact. First squad will be on point with second and third watching the left and right flanks as we approach. Any questions?"

No one spoke up for the time being.

"Very well. We'll go over the plan once more with the troops once we're in range. For now, make sure your troops are well fed, well rested and have their kit operational and good to go by the time we get to Alexandria. Dismissed."

With that, the group dispersed to fulfill their respective tasks.

Caleb stayed, however, either to further examine the plan and colony's specs, or just so he'd have an excuse to not return to his cabin.

"How was that?" Wright asked, leaning against the table that housed the display.

"How long have you been an officer?" Captain Orion asked, eyes never leaving the table.

"That bad, huh?"

"Didn't say it was bad. I asked a question. I'm curious."

"Couple months, maybe. I was a Sergeant before, that's why they all still call me by my first name." She chuckled before sighing. "Hard to start calling your friend 'ma'am' I guess."

"A Sergeant?" Caleb raised a brow before looking at the rank on her shoulder. Not at all what he expected.

"Battlefield promotion." Wright clarified. "Platoon commander got hit the moment we hit the deck and then the Warrant not long after, I stepped up and Iroh became my second in command."

"What the hell happened?"

"Typhon happened."

Caleb nodded, remembering that the initial landings at Typhon were a nightmare, and without Cooper, the mission would have failed for sure.

"I was just an infantry soldier, not a pilot. But after the fact, we got medals, and boom, I'm a pilot and an officer...ha...can you imagine that stupidity?"

"Yes." Caleb reached into the old hoodie, searching for something. Moments later, he retrieved two patches. They were old and frayed. One, an IMC Lance Corporal patch, the other, a Militia Sergeant rank.

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the patches.

"You were an _IMC Grunt_?" She whispered, knowing full well what the reaction of the crew would be.

"I was a kid. _Stupid_. Inexperienced. Thought I was doing the right thing." Caleb didn't whisper. He simply lacked any care what the crew would think.

Drawing a lighter from his pocket, he burnt the IMC patch until it was black and unrecognisable. He cast the smoldering threads to the floor before smashing it with his boot.

"...What happened?" Wright asked, seeing the man in new light.

The Captain could sit her down, talk for hours about Lance Corporal Orion, Colonel Kenneth Maren and Captain Allison Sorin. The battles at Troy, Angel City and so on. He could tell the tale of James MacAllan and the 1st Militia Fleet. But Lance Corporal Orion was dead, and his story didn't deserve to be told.

"I grew up." The Captain curtly responded.

Wright cleared her throat uncomfortably. So far, this war hero wasn't exactly what he was cracked up to be. Everything she had heard depicted him as a well trained, experienced Militia officer. Now she was seeing an Ex-IMC raggedy kid with a beard and desperate need of a shower.

"So...Then you were a Militia infantryman?"

"Yeah. Just another Rifle." Caleb shrugged. "But that wasn't good enough."

"So you put on a pilot helmet and stepped into a Titan?"

"Pretty much."

"...Who taught you?"

"James MacAllan. A former IMC officer turned-"

"I know who James MacAllan is." Wright cut him off and quickly corrected her error. "Sir…I just didn't think the stories were true…"

"Look, Wright." Caleb sighed, slightly losing his patience. "This isn't about _me_. I didn't bring this up to talk about some dumb kid. My point is, I've been there, you'll learn. It's not gonna be easy, you're gonna hate it at times. But give it just that... _time_ , and cut yourself some slack."

Wright analyzed his instructions before nodding, even if she didn't fully understand.

"Never take time for granted." Caleb looked to the floor briefly. "I learned that the hard way."

"Understood."

"Good. Now follow your own instructions and rest up."

Caleb pushed himself off the table, heading for the door.

"What were they like?" Wright asked, out of the blue.

"What?" Caleb looked over his shoulder.

"The original crew...the first fleet. You only ever hear about them in stories."

Caleb pondered for a minute, reflecting on his time spent with the original crew of the Redeye and his team in particular.

"They were heroes. Loyal to freedom on the frontier, not the freedom to smuggle and pillage. They wanted peace. They were excellent soldiers and pilots. My friends. My…"

An image of Allison flashed into his head once again, resulting in a noticeable change in expression. He shook his head and fixed his posture.

"Get some rest, Lieutenant."

Captain Orion abruptly stepped out, moving to check his equipment to be battle ready.

* * *

 _A/N: Sup guys! Back at it again. Personally had a lot of fun with this. Gonna try and delve more into the whole PTSD side of conflict while continuing to develop Caleb and the new crew. Hope you guys are enjoying the follow up. For those wondering about the next chapter of Strangers in a Strange Land, its coming too and getting real close to completion (its a good one too)._

 _Thanks guys, stay awesome._

 _-Dan_


	4. Alexandria

_"I have wondered about you, Where will you be when this is through. If all, if all goes as planned, will you redeem my life again." - Faunts, M4 Part II_

* * *

 ** _TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING_**

 _CHAPTER 4: ALEXANDRIA_

* * *

 _Caleb shot up from his bed after a panicked spasm, panting rapidly and wiping his forehead from the cold sweat of his nightmare._

" _Hey, hey, hey! Are you okay?" After waking to the sound of Caleb's panic, Allison rolled onto her side, investigating._

 _The alarmed soldier began to relax, slowing his breathing once he had realized that he was awake, and safe._

 _Sorin sat up, wrapping her arms around the man. "What's wrong?"_

" _These fucking nightmares!" Caleb exclaimed, shuddering as he did._

" _It's okay, Caleb...I'm right here...Everything's gonna be okay…"_

* * *

Captain Orion awoke slowly, his eyes fluttering open to reveal himself in the cockpit of his titan. He sat up, getting his bearings. He groaned in discomfort.

Caleb shook his head and slammed his fist against the side of the cockpit, resulting in a mechanical voice raising an inquiry.

"Did you sleep well, Pilot?"

"No, VC. Not really."

"As I have expressed, Pilot, the cockpit is an unsuitable location for dwelling and will result in fatigue due to poor posture-"

"I know, VC, I know...Just, didn't wanna go back to the cabin for a bit."

"Very well. However, I recommend proper sleeping arrangements for you soon."

"Yeah, Yeah, I gotcha, VC." Caleb manually opened the hatch, revealing the painful brightness of the Titanbay where the Soldier had retreated to shortly after the mission briefing the previous night.

The soldier lifted his hand, shielding his eyes from the incoming light while his eyes adjusted from the pitch black of the cockpit.

"Pilot, if need be, I can alert Lieutenant Wright about your sleeping habits and perhaps she could arrange something better for you."

"Nah, VC. This isn't something anybody needs to know about...But thanks big guy."

"Of course, Caleb."

The pilot dropped the steel floor of the bay, making an audible clang as his boots made contact. Caleb stretched and observed his surroundings, now seeing a few servicemen and women beginning their work in the bay. He glanced at his watch, figuring they'd be arriving at Alexandria soon enough.

"Don't go anywhere, buddy. Might need you soon."

"There is little room for me to move, Pilot. I will wait here."

" _Right..._ "

Caleb made his way to the cabin, following the path he had taken hundreds of times on the Redeye before, remembering each hallway and deck change he needed to get to his location.

He halted before the door, taking a deep breath, refusing to keep hiding like a scared by. The door slid open, and the lights illuminated the room.

After a needed shower and facial hair trim, Caleb prepared his combat gear, meticulously placing each item he would need into his vest, memorizing each one. Extra magazines, first aid, radio and other such items found their way into his vest, upping the weight with each placement.

After fitting his equipment to his body, the pilot grasped his helmet and made for the door, only stopping after taking a quick glance at the mirror. With the much needed clean up, he began to look like a soldier again, for better or worse. Seeing a shine in his open bag in the reflection, Caleb turned to investigate, retrieving a half empty bottle of moonshine, courtesy of Barker's own brewing operation.

He opened the lid, taking a fast swig before pouring some into a flask he now kept on his belt - an idea he got from Barker, advice which the man didn't intend to give. Sealing the bottle away, Caleb grabbed his G2A4 and left the room, not bothering to close it up.

Captain Orion slung his rifle over his shoulder whilst carrying his helmet and making way for the ships armory where he would meet up with Lieutenant Wright and her men.

"Captain Orion."

A voice made the Pilot glance over his shoulder. Warrant Iroh, similarly geared up and likely heading to the same location along the same avenue of approach.

"Warrant." The Captain nodded. "Ready to move?"

"Yes, Sir. If not a little concerned…"

"Wright will do fine, and we'll win if they're down there."

"Neither of those topics are my main concern, I'm afraid, Sir."

"Then what _is_ your concern?"

"With respect, that would be you, Captain."

Caleb stopped and stared the Warrant down with a raised eyebrow.

"If your record is to believed, you are an impeccable soldier, and a good pilot. However, I am concerned about skill fade and your ability to...shall we say...work well with others."

The Captain exhaled loudly from his nose, unsure where this, what he felt was a personal attack, was coming from. He had met the man not even two days ago and the Warrant believed he had the Captain figured out. A mistake, Caleb deemed.

"Please don't take offence, Sir. I only mean well for my men and Lieutenant Wright. They're all young and I think having a legend there for them would do well for the mission. If you truly believe we're going to get into an intense fight...I think they could use that much from you. And so far, Sir...I think myself and the Lieutenant are a tad...underwhelmed."

The Warrant sighed.

"Perhaps that isn't fair of me to say. Legends are exaggerated. It's unrealistic for one man to live up to tales forged by troops on the ground."

"I've heard reality is often disappointing." Caleb muttered accompanied by a grunt and a shrug.

"Nevertheless. I ask that you bring it all to the table when it comes to this, Sir. I don't want to send a bunch of kids home in body bags."

The Warrant had guts, Caleb would give him that. Many wouldn't speak like that to an officer, or any superior. Much less if that superior was a Pilot. Even fewer if that Pilot was Caleb Orion.

Caleb had thought about arguing, maybe even reminding the Warrant of the chain of command and blasting his ass into oblivion. He was above that however, and Caleb could respect the man wanting the very best for his soldiers, even if it meant on relying on a drunk.

"I will." Caleb assured.

"Then we have no issue, Sir."

Caleb walked in silence for a few minutes while he thought. A thought crossed his mind, which made the previous conversation make a little more sense in context.

"You were a Pilot, weren't you?" The Captain abruptly asked.

"I was." The Warrant answered, looking forward. "May I ask what gave that idea, Sir?"

"For one, the gear. which at first glance I assumed you'd taken off of bodies to up-armor your gear. On second thought, I figured you salvaged your old equipment. Also the way you carry yourself. You're ballsy, putting it lightly."

"And you'd be right. The second part, that is. Why do you ask?"

"If you were so concerned with a shitty pilot being attached to your unit, why chose to leave?"

"I never said you were a bad pilot, Sir, and that wasn't my intention. And, I simply believed that I could do more as a frontline soldier than as a Pilot.

Caleb didn't say anything in response, and instead pondered on the man's words. Truthfully, it didn't matter, and yet he found himself curious as to what kind of skill this ex-pilot could employ on the battlefield.

In time, both men arrived in the dropship hangar, where several dozen Militia soldiers awaited. Among them was Lieutenant Wright, briefing the Platoon as a whole. Upon her word, the crowd dispersed among their respective squads - finding their assigned dropships. The same old dance routine for every mission the Republic ran.

"They're a bunch of kids." Caleb growled through grit teeth. "The republic sent us out here to fight an unknown enemy with _children?_ "

"Sir, I assure you, their skills are far greater than their age lets on...I would've briefed you had I known it was an issue." Wright clarified upon hearing the Captain's distaste.

"I have an _issue_ with sending a bunch of kids to their death, Lieutenant...I thought we were better than this." Caleb sighed and put his helmet on.

"Most of the combat experienced men are out fighting the IMC on the frontlines, Captain." Warrant Iroh said while placing his helmet on as well. "We can't spare the men from that fight."

"Yeah, we'll see if we're all singing that song after we get down there...Lieutenant, any comms with the colony?"

The Captain immediately went straight to business upon boarding their dropship.

"No." Wright nervously answered. "Captain McKay has also assured me that our communications as well as the Colony's communications are online...There's just no one picking up on the other end…"

"Nothing from the Garrison, either?"

Wright shook her head.

"Fantastic." Caleb sarcastically exclaimed before pulling back the charging handle on his weapon, loading a round into the chamber. "Have the Platoon ready weapons and let's get down there. Has Commander Briggs been alerted to our departure?"

"Yes, Sir. Commander Briggs and Commander Barker are awaiting intelligence reports on the bridge."

"Right then, let's get this over with."

* * *

 _ **THE FRONTIER  
FRONTIER REPUBLIC COLONY - ALEXANDRIA  
MCS REDEYE  
**_ ** _FRONTIER REPUBLIC ARMED FORCES  
_** ** _CAPTAIN CALEB ORION_**

"Oh man." A distressed exclamation came from the cockpit of the shuttle. "Lieutenant, you might wanna take a look at this…"

Wright left the cramped troop compartment on the shuttle, making way for the cockpit to see the pilot.

"My god." Terra Wright was suddenly flushed with a feeling she remembered all too well from Typhon. Fear. "Captain Orion? We've got bod-"

"Lieutenant."

Wright looked over her shoulder, seeing several of her troops, all with similar faces of fear, looking over at her like children looking for some certainty of safety from their mother. The Captain, on the other hand, faced forward, patiently waiting for the ramp to drop. He had stopped her from talking about it before lowering morale any further. If there was something grim down there, they didn't need to hear it - they'd be seeing it shortly.

The small fleet of crows touched down in the outskirts, ramps facing the colony.

"Good luck down there!" The Pilot shouted before tapping a few keys on his console to deploy the ramp.

The ramp slowly lowered, just adding to eerie sense of unease that every one of them had. A slowly steady rainfall could be seen in the dead colony. The closer the ramp came to the wet grass, a wider image was displayed to the passengers. Smoke, smoldering buildings, bodies everywhere. They had landed just on the outskirts and yet they could already tell it was going to get much darker before they even got to the core of the colony.

Caleb shouldered his rifle, stepping off first.

"Secure the landing zone, move." He calmly spoke into his platoon comm, getting the message out quickly.

The rest of the unit flooded out of their dropships, fanning out into a defensive posture around the landing zone.

Captain Orion took a knee, scanning from right to left. Nothing but burnt out buildings and corpses. Lots of them.

"What's everybody seeing? All squads report in sequence." Wright's voice came in subtly over the radio, checking in with all teams.

"Alpha Squad - Nothin' to our rear, just fields."

"This is Bravo, we're up front with the Captain...seeing dead colonists in the streets and shot up buildings. Doesn't look good, ma'am."

"Charlie checking in; we've got the same over here."

"Roger that, advance towards the colony and watch your arcs. Bravo team, be prepared to establish a fire-base if we come under contact. Alpha and Charlie, be prepared to conduct a flanking mission."

It wasn't exactly a groundbreaking strategy, Caleb noted. However, it was simple enough that everyone knew it and everyone could perform if things went south.

Reluctantly, each Soldier rose from their semi-protected and semi-defendable position to advance towards the dead colony. Caleb followed suit, shouldering his rifle and advancing slowly, looking just above the weapon sight to observe the immediate surroundings.

Once the Platoon had entered the heart of the Colony - the scene only worsened. The dead in the outskirts were likely stragglers chased down. In the middle of the town, a blood bath was displayed.

" _Jesus Christ…_ " A Republic soldier voiced his fear and dismay at the sight.

Bodies. Everywhere. Rendered nearly unrecognizable with the sheer firepower and shrapnel put into them. On the surface, one couldn't even call the scene a battle - more of a slaughter.

"Fucking Marauders..." Another soldier said aloud.

"Marauders like to take people alive, kid." Orion coldly stated. "Can't make money on a corpse...No this is something else. Probably our pals that made a mess on Harmony."

Caleb groaned silently under his helmet. He knew hoping that the Republic would beat the enemy here to Alexandria was unrealistic and too optimistic. Still, he had held onto some semblance of hope that he would be wrong. And yet - he was proven right by the universe again, something he was getting exponentially more tired of.

"...Why? Why the hell would someone do this?" A young Private murmured, sounding close to breaking already.

"One way to find out, kid." Caleb muttered. "Stay calm and watch your arcs, whoever did this could still be around. Sooner we're done, sooner we can get the hell out of here..."

Caleb would be lying if the whole settlement didn't disturb him as well. It was a true display of barbarism in warfare, one he wished that Humanity was above. Evidently they were not.

Captain Orion stopped, observing the bullet riddled corpse of a farmer with a small rifle - likely for hunting or simple home defence. Several casings surrounded the man. Caleb glanced over to the likely avenue of where a target could be, revealing a small puddle of blood with no corpse to claim it - leading the Republic Captain to believe who ever attacked at least faced some resistance, no matter how small.

"Well." The Captain tilted his head slightly. "At least they bleed."

"Captain Orion, how's it look in the center of town?" Wright radioed him once again.

"Not good." Caleb answered while observing a building, following the bullet trail upwards. "Definitely not Marauders. Colony extinction was an old move by the IMC if they thought they could weed out Militiamen. No, this is _them_ alright."

"Roger that...We still can't get anyone on comms from the Republic outpost here."

"I'd wager they're all dead, Lieutenant." Caleb harshly stated while observing a Frontier Republic soldier's corpse surrounded by civilians.

"We don't know for sure."

"I've got a feeling we do."

"Should I dispatch a team to go check out the outpost regardless?"

"We need the men. We'll make a full sweep after we've confirmed if there's a threat or any civilian survivors, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Sir."

The unit continued inward, checking each building carefully for survivors, turning up nothing but dead men, women and children. Subtly, Caleb could feel his old rage rising. He vowed to kill whoever had done this, but he also needed to find out why. Why they were doing this, what the goal was. And where they had gone.

" _Captain Orion! I've got something!_ " A voice called out to the Captain.

Caleb jogged over towards the origin, finding a lone soldier observing a bar.

"What do you have?"

"This, Sir." He gestured to a small craft awkwardly parked outside the bar. "She's still runnin' Sir, and I swear I heard something inside…"

Iroh and Wright came jogging over a few moments afterwards, having the soldier repeat his findings to them. In response, the Warrant and a few troops began stacking up on the door, preparing to breach on the Lieutenant's orders.

Caleb didn't move, however. He stood motionless, completely fixated on the craft and a symbol it displayed on the side, crudely painted on. Old style Marauder Corps, used exclusively by Jacob Herrick's faction of mercs. The rage that the Captain tried to suppress early came back in full force. He was seething, breathing heavily.

He slung his rifle onto his back and drew his B3 Wingman from its holster. He stormed up the short stairwell, moving for the entrance. The Warrant and other troops in the stack watched him in disbelief as he squared up with the door and fed it a boot, sending the doors crashing open.

Handgun raised, the Captain entered, immediately setting his sights on two individuals who quickly went for their weapons, only to lower them upon a swarm of Republic troops entered the room weapons raised.

"Whoa, Whoa, Whoa...Easy lads…" One of the men spoke, holstering his side arm

The other let his weapon, an EVA-8, hang from its sling before raising his arms.

"Identify yourself!" Warrant Iroh screamed at the two Marauders, not taking his eyes off them for a moment.

Caleb sighed. He'd just planned on shooting them, but the Warrant's move made sense. They'd maybe gain some intelligence on the situation depending on how long the two were there.

"Well I'm Dominic and that there is Ryan...You can _lower_ your weapons guys, we're all cool here."

"That's not gonna happen, Marauder scum." Caleb hissed, keeping his B3 raised.

"Hey, relax man, we didn't shoot this place up if that's what you're wondering."

Lieutenant Wright peaked into the doorway. She'd been waiting for the all clear before risking herself as well as the Captain and Warrant all at the same time. Seeing the surrendering Marauders, she stepped in.

"What are you even doing here?" She demanded.

Caleb sighed again, louder this time, seeing that it was the Lieutenant's intention to question them. He lowered his sidearm and holstered in before crossing his arms in frustration.

"I could answer that for you, Lieutenant." Captain Orion spoke. "They're here to snatch up any goods left over."

"Snatch is a bit of a harsh word, I'd say...Hmm, relieving the deceased of their burdens."

"I don't care what you call it."

"Warrant Iroh, take the unit and continue the sweep, I'm going see what we can get out of these two." Wright calmly ordered the search.

"Yes Ma'am. Holler if you need anything."

With the room getting crowded, Iroh dismissed himself and all but two security riflemen, leaving to continue the sweep under his command while the Captain and the Lieutenant questioned their detainees.

When Iroh left, Wright removed her helmet, and took a seat. Immediately Caleb could sense the two bastards eying the Lieutenant up like a piece of meat to be toyed with or traded. He grit his teeth, wishing she hadn't done that.

"You're lucky the Lieutenant is here, or I'd have shot you both already." Caleb grunted, removing his helmet once the situation was under control.

"Well I'll be damned...You're _Caleb Orion, aren't you?_ " The Marauder who claimed his name was Dominic failed to withhold an expression of genuine surprise.

"You know me?"

"Hell, every Marauder knows you. Quite the price on your head. Herrick isn't a fan of yours.."

"Herrick." Caleb chuckled apathetically. " _Typical,_ place a bounty and hope the scum of the earth mercenaries and bounty hunters of the Marauder Corps collect. How's that working out for him? Did he tell you how many Marauders I've killed? Or does he still think he has even the slightest shred of a chance against me or the Republic? Is he so desperate that he's now sending backwater _inbreds_ to kill me?"

Caleb was getting closer, toying with his holster as his tone got more aggressive.

"Captain…" Wright gently grabbed the pilot by the wrist, pulling him back slightly.

Against his judgement, once again the stood down, allowing the Lieutenant to take the reigns.

"You've got a lot of pent up anger, Captain Orion." Dominic mused, playing with a half empty bottle of alcohol he had found on the table, likely prior to the Republic's arrival.

"When did you get here?" Wright inquired, getting right to the point.

"Maybe an hour ago. Colony was like this when we got here. Didn't see anybody if that's what you're wonderin'..."

"What brings the MCOR this far out of their domain? Gotta be risky on the fringes of Republic and IMC space."

"Maybe, but the scores have been worth it. Whole colonies goin' dark makes for some pretty decent pay outs if we manage to get enough and bring it all back."

"...Did you say whole Colonies? That can't be right...That's not what Day told us on Harmony." Wright glanced over to Captain Orion, hoping he had answers. When no answer came, she faced the marauders again.

"How many?"

Even the Captain had his interested piqued...At the time, Republic intelligence only suggested that a total of three outposts had been attacked. Either the intelligence was well behind up to date events or only reported on high profile facilities getting hit, and simply assumed all other hostile action against the Republic had been at the hands of either pirates or the IMC.

"Guess it's hard to really stay informed when you spend a lot of time on nice, cushy, garden world of Harmony, right? We know of maybe five or six, including this one."

"Anything irregular at the Colonies?...Any idea what whoever is doing this is after?"

"No, and rightly we don't care, it's none of our business. Now can we carry on with our drink and job, or are you gonna arrest us or whatever?"

Caleb looked towards the Lieutenant, non-verbally confirming she was done with her questioning.

"I wouldn't arrest you."

"Well then, I'm glad the Lieutenant here is in charge so we could have a nice relaxed chat like civilized folk."

"Just...get out of here...If I ever see or hear about you in Republic territory again...I don't care how much intel you could have, I'll kill you on sight and make sure there are orders given to every soldier on the Frontier to carry out the same."

"Whoa, hey now, these people don't need anything anymore...We're not doin' anybody harm by comin' out here. We'll finish up our drink, get what we need and leave, you won't see us ever again."

"No. You leave now, that wasn't a suggestion."

"This is bullshit! Dominic, we need this money! Fuck this, let's just schwack this Militia goon and get out of here! "

Caleb glanced over his shoulder, facing down the other Mercenary.

"You shoot me, these two tear you apart. If you somehow, by the grace of God, manage to kill all three of us, how long do you think you'd last against an entire Frontier Republic unit waiting outside?"

"You're bluffing."

"Try me, asshole. Put a bullet in me and you're dead either way. But before you do...You better pray that first round kills me..."

"Whoa whoa whoa, everybody relax! Nobody's shooting anybody, right Captain?" Dominic threw his hands up.

The seemingly calm Marauder climbed over top the bar.

The sudden movement startled the Captain. Caleb's hand found his holster, playing with the release clasp very slowly. The Marauder placed his sidearm down atop the counter, facing the Captain. His sudden attitude shift and weapon removal had been an attempt to get the Captain's guard down. It didn't work.

"Just a couple of friends havin' some drinks. But say, Captain...You know what it's like out there...out on the Frontier, yeah?"

"What do _you_ think, smartass?"

"Well, then you know, with whoever did all this still runnin' around and with the Militia nor the IMC able to stop em'...guys gotta make a livin' somehow."

"I'm not giving you an option. If you know who I am like you say you do... it'd be the best option for your personal health to get the fuck out of here. Ask your boss, I'm not the forgiving type."

"Fair enough. But, since you're so smart...where do you suppose we go? What do we do?"

"...I don't know. I hear Harmony is nice."

"Aha! _Harmony_... _This guy_ …"

The Marauder went for his weapon.

Caleb drew his Wingman, firing one shot into the Man's skull, killing him instantly. A red splash stained the bar top and the bottles on the counter as the limp body fell. Caleb spun on his heel, ready to meet the second marauder who had been raising his EVA-8 during the confrontation. The Pilot fired two rapid shots into the second mans chest. The marauder recoiled, smashing violently in the wall then sliding down, barely clinging to life. The Captain fired a third shot into his forehead, ending the confrontation in a flash.

The room fell silent, with only the Lieutenant's and the Private's heavy shocked breathing filling the air.

" _Wrong move._ "

Caleb shoved his revolver back into it's holster before grabbing his helmet and walking out of the bar.

As he stepped outside, Warrant Iroh had been sprinting back towards the building with the unit upon hearing the gunshots.

" _Sir! What happened?_ "

"I dealt with the situation." He curtly responded. "Continue the search. I want to know what happened here, but survivors are still your top priority, move out."

A handful of the troops exchanged concerned glances before doing as their were told.

Caleb unslung his rifle before carelessly walking further into the settlement looking for clues.

As the Pilot was far enough away, Iroh stepped into the bar, seeing Wright and the Militia Trooper both looking equally dazed and confused. Both of them had been trying to process what had just happened.

"Lieutenant?" Iroh called out.

She looked up while reaching for her helmet.

"Are you alright?"

Lieutenant Terra Wright said nothing, instead, she walked past both men in the building, giving a pat on the shoulder to each as she passed them. She couldn't help but shake a feeling that coldly crept up on her when the last shot was fired.

What could have possibly happened to that Pilot that caused him to act the way he did.

She didn't know, and she reckoned she'd never find out. Not from Commander Briggs, not from Commander Barker.

And certainly not from Captain Orion.

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry folks, got delayed with computer issues, and a serious case of writers block on multiple projects. Hope you all enjoy, though._


	5. Kingdom Come

" _I should've seen the warning, this heavy weight inside my chains. I should've told you sooner, thought that I could wait instead." - Hidden Citizens, Too Far Gone._

* * *

 _ **TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING**_

 _CHAPTER 5: KINGDOM COME_

* * *

 _ **FIVE YEARS AGO**_

 _Nye. A relatively built up colony world on the Frontier, heavily built on mining and farming operations for the IMC. Population wise, the colony saw significant growth from initial colonial efforts in the early years of Frontier colonization and the subsequent return of the IMC. To date, it housed roughly ten million colonists, a bulk of which were employed by the colonial administration for various tasks deemed necessary as the planet was in IMC controlled space. It had been under consistent control...until the Militia came knocking._

 _With Demeter destroyed just over half a year ago and with the death of ex-IMC officer James MacAllan, the Militia had been fed the catalyst to begin ramping up the war effort against the IMC. They had gone from a rag-tag group of rebels, dissenters, homesteaders and other less reputable titles to an actual military force to be reckoned with. And with a substantial industrial-military complex, thus came a rework of structure and formal training for the flood of new recruits._

 _The intense military vigor once again refueled hopes that the people of the Frontier would be free to self govern once the IMC had been expelled from the battlefield. But, only time would tell._

 _Regardless, such vigor and upgrade in strategic thinking and manpower allowed for the opening up of new theaters of engagement all across Frontier space, retaking multiple systems and beginning the long crawl towards victory. One such liberated planet had been Nye._

 _To some, it was seen as a major victory for the Militia, with even more public support, resources and manpower being swayed to the Militia._

 _But not to Lieutenant Caleb Orion. To him, it was home._

 _Or at least it had been before he had enlisted in the IMC armed services as a marine. The now renegade Militia Pilot hadn't stepped foot on the planet's surface in months since his defection out of fear of the IMC's retaliation to his family, and to the people, should they have harbored a traitor._

 _Even as the Pilot sat, slumped against a large tree atop a hill in the outskirts of a rural area with his helmet in his lap, he failed to truly fathom he was there, believing he'd never see his home again. He'd seen his parents again, seen his own house again and battled desperately in the streets of his childhood, and yet the high of combat and shock failed to leave him...even with the smell of smoke and death lingering in the hours after the massive battle to retake the planet from the desperate hands of the IMC Remnant Fleet._

 _The Lieutenant had retreated to a popular spot of his youth for some sense of security._

 _To his right stood tall buildings with plumes of smoke leaving them while Militia frigates and dropships soared overhead. To his left was the gorgeous coastline with untamed waves crashing against it. In front of the pilot was a massive cliff that overlooked the sea below._

 _It was peaceful once, and he'd often find himself there to relax alongside his best friend. It was a view he couldn't wait to show someone very close to him if he ever had the chance to make it home._

 _And even though he had finally gotten that chance, he did so alone._

 _Now, he didn't find the view so comforting. Not only did it occur to him that he would never sit there with his best friend again, the cliff also served too closely a reminder of the day he lost Allison in combat. Now, if anything, he found that the view was a little too inviting..._

 _"Your mom told me I might find you here."_

 _Orion glanced over his shoulder, seeing Commander Robert 'Barker' Taube approaching, climbing the hill still donning his flight suit while clutching a flask with an open cap._

 _"...Hey, Barker."_

 _"Hey, kid..."_

 _The drunkard slumped down next to the Lieutenant, placing his headset down and adjusted himself awkwardly against the tree until he was comfortable._

 _"I never thought I'd make it home." The stoic Militia pilot muttered while grabbing a chunk of green grass._

 _Barker looked to his right, observing the Pilot, letting him speak._

 _"Allison told me we'd get here one day. I never believed her. I thought for sure I'd be long dead by now."_

 _"Well…" Barker was about to take a swig of his flask, but stopped himself with an apathetic chuckle. "She always was smarter than the both of us."_

 _"Yeah…"_

 _"She'd be proud of you, kid. Mac would be too. He didn't get a lot of time to train you up, but I'm sure he'd be happy with what you've managed to accomplish."_

 _"He taught me to work with what I've got."_

 _"Sounds like somethin' he would'a said...Which is why...startin' immediately, I'm gonna teach you. Take over for Pilot training for here on out."_

 _Caleb raised a brow quizzically with a bemused look plastered on his face. "I thought you already were?"_

 _"No more late night drinkin' tips, kid. Sarah wants the real deal, and as I've been reminded, I was an officer in the strongest military force in the history of mankind, and one hell of a pilot. Apparently."_

 _Caleb's eyes met the grass again, searching for a response in the blades of evergreen._

 _"I'm sorry in advance." Barker took a long swig immediately after speaking. After he finished, he extended his hand, offering the younger pilot the flask._

 _"...For what?" Caleb asked before taking the flask and taking a quick sip._

 _"I'm not Mac. I'm not Sarah, not Graves and I'm certainly not Sorin. But I'll do my best."_

 _"...Guess we're both disappointments then, huh?"_

 _Barker sighed, running a free hand through his hair. He knew what the Lieutenant was going through since Demeter. The soldier, in a span of only three months had lost his best friend, his leader, his teacher and his lover. But Barker knew Caleb would prove to be a difficult pupil, and himself a problematic teacher._

 _"Either way, we'll get you ready for the SRS."_

 _"...What's the SRS?"_

 _"Sarah's little pet project. Special Recon Squadron. Militia spec-ops by the sounds of it. Part of the whole military revamp she and Graves have been yappin' about for the last couple months." Barker shrugged, not too sure of the details himself._

 _"I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that."_

 _"Maybe one day...But, it's not the only change that's been made."_

 _"What else?"_

 _"Well." Barker sighed. "With Herrick and the Marauders no longer on our side, Sarah thought it was fair we take our name back."_

 _Caleb shook his head. "No."_

 _"It's not our choice, kid."_

 _"We're nothing like them!"_

 _"I know that, Caleb. That's her point. We're nothing like them, and it was our name to begin with. You don't have to like it, but hell, welcome to the new Marauder Corps, kid."_

 _"So that's it? We just forget what they did to us?! What they do even now? Barker, we almost lost everyone on Demeter because they didn't back us up!"_

 _"...Try to think of it as the Militia turning over a new leaf or something like that…" Barker kept his own concerns about it quiet, trying to be the mature one for a change. "Besides. Doesn't take away from the fact that we're fighting them too."_

 _Caleb scoffed, but took some slight comfort that he still had permission to gun any Marauder from Herrick's faction down._

 _"Look, I know it's a lot to take in. So we won't worry about training or the cleanup for now. Just...take a damn breather and slow down. Go see your folks, kid. I'll let you be."_

 _Barker pushed himself up, quickly finished off the contents of his flask before marching back down the hill towards the Militia's command post in the center of town._

 _Caleb shook his head as the man left, gradually disappointed in the direction their conversation took. One on hand, he wanted to be thankful...Most Militia pilots didn't want much to do with a grunt pretending to be a Pilot, whereas Barker never gave up on him. On the other, he was tired. Tired of the war, tired of everything. Most of his soul was completely crushed earlier in the conflict._

 _The pilot slumped against the tree and sat for a while longer, taking the time required to think everything over. Everything. He found himself incapable of finding a reason why he still soldiered on, and instead found himself carving the names of everyone he'd lost into the tree that had been standing on that hill for over twenty years. One by one he carved their names._

 _PHILIP SPEAR_

 _ERIC KELLER_

 _JAMES MACALLAN_

 _ALLISON SORIN_

 _Once he had finished, he sheathed the dull blade and marched down the hill, far too uncomfortable and overcome with dread to remain._

* * *

 _ **PRESENT DAY  
ALEXANDRIA  
FRONTIER REPUBLIC SPACE  
CAPTAIN CALEB ORION  
FRONTIER REPUBLIC MARAUDER CORPS**_

Captain Orion followed the flow of Republic troops through the remainder of the town, finding nothing more than death and more smoke. The further they went, the fewer Militia corpses they found, leading the Captain to believe the enemy had been indeed searching for intelligence and taking men alive. For what purpose, he had yet to discover.

The MCOR pilot found himself searching through homes, hoping that someone had managed to hide. A short time later, he was joined by a much quieter, much more sheepish Lieutenant Wright, who was escorted by the same soldier left by Warrant Iroh for security.

"Anything?" She asked quietly.

Caleb shook his head slowly, trying to hide his dismay.

"Nothing yet."

"...Are you alright?" Wright abruptly asked.

Orion stopped in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder to see Wright staring right back at him. He spun on his heel, letting his G2A4 hang from it's sling.

"I'm in no place to ask what kind of history you have with the old Marauder Corps, but I can infer enough that it's personal. I just wanted to make sure you're okay. That's all."

Caleb let his guard down for a moment, somewhat relishing the moment of care that someone else gave to him. It was short lived though, as he thought of how to answer such a question.

Sternly, he gave his answer. "I'm fine. Not my first rodeo dealing with them. I have no issue shooting raider scum."

Wright could see through the lie, however. She was more clever than the Captain gave her credit for. It wasn't 'fine' behavior to gun down two people and pretend like it never happened. At least she hoped he wasn't that sort of man. Or they'd have trouble in the coming days.

The Captain turned his back and pressed forward.

"All callsigns, report in, any sign of survivors?" Orion spoke into his helmet radio, signalling every squad in the platoon while continuing on with the search.

"Alpha checkin' in. Nothing over here, Sir."

"Bravo here. Negative, Sir. Just more bodies and rain."

Caleb sighed and kept searching the house he and Wright were in while waiting for Charlie squad to report in, finding himself lingering in a child's bedroom. The eyes behind the helmet starred lifelessly at the bed in the room. It was at that moment he reevaluated his response to Terra. He was anything but fine right now. The man fought the urge to puke and left the room to try his radio again.

"Charlie, I say again, repor-"

" _Captain_ , two of my men are MIA."

Orion's posture fixed, straightening up alongside the hairs on his arms.

" _What?_ "

Caleb rushed out of the house, followed by Wright. The Captain's eyes trailed around the town, instinctively checking for contact.

"Charlie, LOCSTAT, now!" Wright commanded over the radio.

"We're holding position by the water tower, Ma'am!"

Orion and Wright broke into a dash, seeing the tower through the smoke. Both pilots splashed their uniforms with mud as they trudged through the rain soaked village until they reached a defensive line of militia troops. They'd been signaled over by the squad commander, Sergeant Krauss.

"John, what's going on?" Wright asked, immediately seeking out answers while Orion shouldered his weapon, joining the defensive line.

"Sent two riflemen to go check out a sound, figured it could be survivors." Krauss pointed towards the treeline.

Only a handful of rooftops could be seen in the woods. The creeping sense that they truly were not alone began to overtake the Captain once again.

"I'm going to take a look." Caleb ordered. "Wright, bring the rest of the Platoon up here, set up in the buildings. Iroh, start giving out arcs then try to raise the Redeye and give Commander Taube and Briggs a sitrep."

"At least take someone with you." Wright started looking around for a set of volunteers.

"No. I'm not keen on costing any more men. I'll be back."

"Sir-" Wright tried to interject but was immediately cut off by the senior pilot, who interrupted her immediately.

"That's an _order_ , Lieutenant."

Caleb shouldered his rifle and started moving towards the tree line, leaving the Lieutenant and surrounding soldiers to carry out his orders.

" _He's fucking nuts. Suicidal nut job..._ " Sergeant Krauss muttered, watching the Pilot leave.

Wright shook her head in slight frustration, inclined to agree with Krauss, even if she couldn't say so out loud. "Yeah well, he's calling the shots, John. Set up your team in the flat to our right."

Captain Orion followed a set of muddy footprints deeper into the outskirts of town, passing by a set of thick bushes and trees that blocked the view of the main settlement. The trail continued until the Captain found a fresh puddle of blood next to a discarded set of V-47 Flatline rifles and a singular Militia rifleman helmet.

" _Shit._ "

Orion jogged over to the mess, but kept his eyes high, looking around for a possible contact. After a few moments of uneasy listening and watching, the Captain placed his G2 down, moving to observe the scene.

No bodies but not a single casing either...The troopers were taken by surprise, that much the Captain could surmise. But what he could not understand was the lack of corpses. Maybe wildlife? No, there'd be even more blood. The Militia pilot's only guess was that they soldiers found exactly what they'd come to Alexandria for.

The enemy.

Based on the mess back at Harmony, he prayed for their sake that the enemy didn't take them alive.

"Wright. Found two rifles and a helmet...lotta blood." With a sigh, Caleb radioed the Lieutenant.

"Bodies, Sir?" She asked, sounding more than discouraged on the other end.

"No."

He could hear the woman curse and mutter a few things to someone in the background.

While she was distracted, the Captain took a few moments to weigh their options. They were down two men already and they hadn't even seen the enemy yet. Orion wasn't keen on pressing further into the woods where the enemy was probably waiting for more soldiers to stumble into and ambush. Instead, he wanted to win. He wanted to _kill them_ before losing any more soldiers.

"Change of plans, Lieutenant. We're gonna do it your way...Get a squad out to the Republic station. Search for anything we can use. Have the Redeye ready to drop more troops and a Titan compliment."

"Think they're gonna make a move?"

"They're here, looking for something. I'm counting on it...I'm on my way back, tell your men to ready up."

The Captain cut the feed.

Caleb lifted the discarded Militia helmet into his hands, observing the name written on the back as well as the blood type of the user. He shook his head before placing it back down.

" _Shame. Two more to the count, Caleb._ " A familiar voice in his head mocked him, only further adding to his anger.

Whoever was out there had taken the lead, but Orion promised to even the score.

"Shut up! _Just shut up!_ " He slammed his fist against his helmet as he spoke, louder than he intended

As if summoned by his outburst, a startled yelp followed by a subtle shift could be heard from the house beside the Pilot. Caleb initiated his tactical cloak on instinct, realizing he'd foolishly telegraphed his position. He'd scold himself later, when he was safe. Presently, he was anything but.

He shouldered his weapon swiftly and entered the house, intending to get the drop on whoever had heard him outside, rather than the other way around. He cautiously searched every room until his tactical cloak generator expired. The last thing the man had to check was a walk in closet in the master bedroom. It was closed, but the Pilot could hear small, quiet, panicked breaths.

Taking no chances, the Militia pilot drew his Wingman, letting the G2 hang on his back. His left hand went for the door knob, carefully twisting it until he violently yanked the door open, revealing two figures huddled in the corner, one holding a knife and pointing it towards him.

Caleb immediately lowered his sidearm upon realizing the two petrified, bloody figures were civilians. One woman and a small boy, probably no older than ten. Both figures shuddered as the pilot stood there.

He would admit, he was surprised anyone was still alive. Caleb holstered his sidearm and reached for his helmet, placing down next to him as he took a knee.

"It's _alright_ , I'm from the Militia, I'm not gonna hurt you."

The pilot extended his hand, reaching for the woman's knife.

"Why don't you put the knife down and we get you out of here?"

The woman held onto the knife for dear life and raved incoherently, mumbling and whispering while clutching the young boy as well.

" _They're coming! They're going to kill us! You've led them right to us!_ "

Caleb sighed and raised his wrist towards his face, calling Wright again.

"Lieutenant, I've got two survivors out here. Woman and a boy. How copy, over?"

No response. Just dead air.

"Lieutenant, respond."

The Captain found himself uneasy at the silence. Was she dead? Or was he being jammed?

"Terra! Come i-"

He heard the front door open slowly. The pilot glanced to the woman whose eyes were wide with fresh tears and fear. Caleb placed his index finger on his lips, signalling her to be as quiet as possible while he reached for his helmet.

Caleb shut the closet quietly before drawing his data knife from its sheath along with his Wingman. He pressed himself against the wall, inching closer to the bedroom's door as slowly and quietly as he could.

Footsteps drew nearer, until a voice broke the silence.

" _This building's already been cleared._ "

" _Recon had eyes on an MCOR pilot. He's out here somewhere, separated from the main body._ "

Caleb's heart skipped a beat once he learned they had been watched since they arrived.

" _There's a high price on those bastards, so be ready._ "

" _Roger that._ "

He could make out three distinct voices. Caleb prepared himself. The pilot lifted his knife, ready to strike the first individual that walked in. What was only a few seconds of searching felt like an eternity as Caleb waited for the enemy to enter. The moment a barrel crested the doorway, he struck.

The pilot smacked the rifle away with his right hand, sending the weapon crashing into the adjacent wall. Immediately after, Caleb plunged his data knife into the throat of the lead enemy soldier. The two men behind him jumped in surprise but were quick to react, moving to raise their weapons and engage.

But neither were fast enough to match the Militia Captain. Caleb shifted the lifeless corpse out of the doorway while bringing his weapon up, firing three shots into the two soldiers, killing both. In a moment it was over and he now had a moment to observe just who he was dealing with.

Not IMC, that much was certain. Their uniforms were jet black, now stained with red blood. Their kit wasn't uniform or standardized, but definitely not cheap or mashed together like old style Militia gear. Their weaponry was also military spec with a plethora of added on attachments that did not come cheap.

As he retrieved his data knife, Caleb checked for dog tags or any identification. Nothing. He cursed under his breath, now realizing that the only intelligence about them he was likely going to get was from the survivors. He quickly made headway for the closet again, knowing full well more would be coming.

He opened the door, reaching out for the two figures again.

"Come on, we gotta go! _Now!_ "

The woman extended her hand, only to retract it and yell.

" _LOOK OUT!_ "

He missed one.

Caleb immediately spun around, raising his Wingman. He pulled the trigger, but missed his target as the hostile swung his own rifle against the Captain's head. The force of the swing was enough to send the six-shooter flying from his grasp. Caleb grunted and boosted forward with his jump-kit, slamming his opponent against the wall.

Both men wrestled for Caleb's data knife until the black clad soldier managed to get him on the ground. It was evident that the enemy was trying to incapacitate the Militia pilot, _not_ kill him, or he would've been killed by a gunshot long before their fight broke out. Caleb didn't share the same sentiment and plunged his blade into the abdomen of his attacker before grabbing the civilian knife that the woman slid over to him, finishing the soldier with a stab to the neck.

Caleb's breath was shallow and irregular as he lifted the limp body off of himself. He let the corpse drop to the floor as he got up, reaching out a bloody hand.

"Come on!"

Caleb led the two survivors out of the house, sprinting towards the inner colony to escape.

A single gunshot rang out, impacting the mud right in front of the captain. He stopped, and spun around, stepping in front of the civilians, raising his G2 to engage.

The Captain froze in place upon seeing what he was up against. Several _pilots_ took up position on the rooftops, all pointing their weapons at the trio. A number of foot soldiers were present as well, all eagerly awaiting an order to fire on the Militia pilot.

Yet again he wasn't able to get a read on them. Their kit was all too different from one another to point to one organization. He scanned their uniforms, their weapons, trying to formulate a plan. Only one hostile donned a symbol, and he recognized it immediately.

Apex Predators.

Just as President Day suggested.

Caleb had to wonder what kind of money they were making to start funding not just pilots, but foot soldiers as well. What didn't make sense was what kind of contract had they accepted that involved assaulting the Republic with such zeal and bloodlust. To any sane merc, it would be seen as a suicide mission. it didn't make any sense and yet that logo was on the Pilot's arm. Then again, it didn't need to make sense, all Orion needed was to _kill_ them.

He lifted his weapon, taking aim at the one pilot with the logo. In a flash of dark blue, the target was gone in an instant. Phase shifting out of sight.

" _What the fuck?_ "

Caleb took a step back, overwhelmed.

" _Throw down your weapon and step out of the way!_ "

They wanted him alive, but weren't ready to leave any witnesses.

"When I say so. _Run._ " Caleb muttered loud enough for the woman to hear him. She nodded slowly, clutching her bloody knife and her son's hand.

Caleb took a single step forward, lifting his G2 with one hand, feigning a surrender. Three pilots, handful of hostile infantry plus the phase shifter. The odds weren't in his favor, but surrender was _not_ in his play book, nor was being captured or tortured for intelligence. And he wasn't about to let the survivors be executed.

He'd kill as many as he could before going down.

"What's the IMC paying you assholes?"

Caleb asked, trying to sound calm and confident.

" _Shut up._ " One of the Apex pilots shouted, now starting to approach the surrendering pilot after leaping off of the rooftop.

"Hope it was worth it." Caleb shrugged. "Because you're gonna be _dead_ real soon _._ "

" _Don't try anything, hero._ "

Caleb tried his radio one last time before making a move.

"Terra, if you can hear me, now would be a really good time to shoot these guys."

He prayed that if she was still alive, her and her men would have reacted to the gunfire. When no response came, he sighed and prepared himself to engage.

"Well then...Was kinda hoping you'd be dead by now."

 _ **BANG**_

As if one his cue, one of the Apex Pilots yelled, tumbling off the roof from a single gunshot to the chest.

Caleb's head snapped to investigate. Militia fire. He smirked underneath his helmet.

"Better late than never. _RUN!_ "

A hellfire of weapons erupted from the treeline, skirting passed the Militia pilot and two survivors, tearing into the Apex infantry.

Caleb took advantage of the brief moment of surprise and lowered his rifle to his hip, squeezing off a handful of rounds into the body of the approaching pilot. The man yelped in pain and fell to the ground, recoiling from the bullets embedding into his armor.

With that, the battle began. Caleb could hear the all too familiar sound of rounds snapping right by his head, impacting against the trees at head height.

The Captain turned to run for cover, escaping the open kill-zone he had been stuck in. He pushed through the trees and brush before sliding down a muddy incline, seeing Militia troops at the bottom of the hill moving towards the houses for cover.

" _COVERING FIRE, LAY IT ON!_ "

As Caleb sprinted, he could faintly hear Lieutenant Wright and Warrant Iroh barking out fire orders from their over-watch positions. Captain Orion shoulder checked the door, falling to the floor of the house, gasping for air.

"Iroh, keep up the fire!" Wright yelled, giving temporary command to the Warrant as she rushed over to the Captain and two survivors.

"Are you okay?"

" _Me?!_ I thought you were _dead!_ " Caleb threw his helmet to the ground and wiped the sweat from his brow, taking a quick sip of water from his canteen. 'Thanks for the save, though..."

"Sorry about the wait, Captain...didn't want to walk into an ambush. What are we dealing with?" After a brief explanation, she got down to business.

" _Apex Predators_. Pilots, grunts. Tough bastards. They were planning on ambushing us so we've definitely fucked their plans up...Probably didn't plan on fighting us in open combat." Caleb reached for his helmet, pulling it on over his head once he caught his breath.

He extended his hand, offering the canteen of water to the two survivors whom the Lieutenant had been observing closely since they busted in the door alongside the Captain.

"We're going to get you out of here, alright? Just sit tight." Caleb nodded before turning his head to Wright once again. "I want two men with them at all times."

The pilot pushed himself up, getting back to his feet, moving towards a smashed out window to observe the firefight going on.

"Did you get through to the Redeye?" He asked, curious as to what resources he had available to fight the enemy with.

"Yeah, they've got a Titan and a fighter sortie on standby just as you asked for, all we need to do is give them the word."

" _Good._ "

Caleb removed the magazine from his G2, taking a quick glance to see how many rounds he had remaining. Enough to kill more than a few targets. He reset the magazine before taking another look outside, searching for targets.

The Militia troops had managed to lay down an effective spray of fire, ceasing any push from the enemy. What concerned the Captain is that no fire came back. At all.

"Cease fire!" The Captain yelled, attempting to conserve ammo.

Caleb darted outside, using his jump-kit to boost off an adjacent wall to climb a three story building to get a better view. He pulled himself up via the ledge and took a knee, raising his rifle.

"Captain Orion, Lieutenant Wright, this is Captain McKay, do you read?!" The Redeye's Captain radioed in, desperately attempting to reach the two ground-side officers.

"Go ahead, Captain." Caleb responded while eyeing the treeline closely for contact.

"An unmarked _cruiser_ just jumped in above the planet! They're launching fighters and dropships, and moving to engage! We're scrambling the fighters so whatever you need to do down there, do it fast! Titan support standing by if you need it!"

Orion found himself stunned. Since when could Apex afford an entire cruiser with an entire compliment to staff it?! More and more the mission became convoluted. His train of thought was cut off by a steady thumping coming from the tree line.

He tilted his head.

A warhead came rocketing through the trees, impacting one of the many buildings the platoon had been using for cover, sending shrapnel barreling everywhere. The explosion knocked the Captain off his feet.

" _What the hell was that?!_ " A handful of surprised shouts could be heard over the groans and burning steel.

"HOSTILE TITAN INCOMING!" Warrant Iroh screamed the moment a glowing optical unit could be seen through the trees.

A Tone chassis came darting through the trees, sending a handful of 40mm rounds towards the Militia emplacements while supported by an element of Infantry and a few pilots.

" _WRIGHT, GET ANTI-TITAN ROUNDS ON THAT BASTARD! IROH, START PEELING BACK OR WE'RE DEAD!"_

Caleb shouted his commands before taking a few shots into the approaching battle group, killing a few infantry soldiers that had returned fire too late to stop him. The Pilot in the Apex tone took notice of the pilot engaging via the rooftop and began to shell the building.

Orion leapt off the roof top, running along as many walls as he could while drawing the Titan's fire. He managed to maintain a good chunk of Apex's attention as two pilots pursued as well, allowing much of the Militia force to bound back under contact, exchanging heavy fire with the advancing enemy while preparing anti-titan rockets for the enemy Tone.

Two of the Apex pilots began to close the distance with the MCOR pilot, hot on his tail, using their jump-kits to catch up. Caleb, while darting around the colony via the walls, reached into a pouch, retrieving a fragmentation grenade. He pulled the pin and released the spoon, cooking the grenade.

He counted, waiting for the perfect moment. Seconds later, he tossed the grenade behind him, bouncing off a wall for a split second before detonating.

The explosion was enough to dispatch of at least one of the Apex pilots, leaving a bloody mess to fall to the pavement below. The second pilot pursued and took shots towards the Militia infantry, striking a few men while pursuing.

The Captain searched for a way to engage the Pilot, until he noticed Wright running along the walls not far behind. She sent a spray of automatic weapons fire towards the Apex mercenary, just barely missing. Wright then extended her arm out, firing a grapple cable, impaling the pilot in the back.

She boosted herself off the wall, barreling towards the hostile pilot. The MCOR lieutenant placed her boots against the merc and let gravity take the two downwards. A loud audible crack could be heard as the two made contact with the pavement. To be sure, Wright fired two rounds into the back of the enemy Pilot, ensuring he was dead.

Orion had been hanging from a ledge, watching the short engagement end. He was impressed to say the least, but knew his analysis could wait until after the battle. He dropped from the exterior walls and sprinted towards the Platoon's position, which had been close to being overwhelmed by the advancing enemy.

The hostile Titan had been maintaining a safe distance, raining fire from behind a particle wall shield to protect itself from anti-titan weaponry.

Caleb took cover, joined by Wright and shouted to the Warrant.

"Iroh! Take the survivors and your men, fallback to the Republic outpost! We'll handle this!"

"No complaints here, Sir! Good luck!"

The collective of Militia infantry began to withdraw from enemy contact, making headway towards the defendable Frontier Republic station.

"How the hell are we gonna handle this?" Wright asked, wanting to know what Caleb's plan was, if he even had one.

"How good are you at titan combat?" He asked, peeking around the corner.

"Beyond sims, not great." She answered honestly.

Caleb offered the woman his G2 and two spare magazines.

"Then here. Keep the AT off me. I'm gonna deal with that son of a bitch."

Wright shrugged and took the G2 before looking for a vantage point.

"Okay, I've got your back."

"Good. I want that rifle back by the way."

The lieutenant began to climb to higher ground, gone in the blink of an eye with the use of her grapple and jump kit.

Captain Orion attempted to contact the Redeye again, trying to get in touch with his mentor.

"Barker! You on Titan ops?!" Caleb yelled into his radio.

"You bet, what do you need?"

"Send VC!"

"Roger that, kid! Standby for Titanfall!"

Caleb steadied his breathing as best as he could. Inter-Titan combat was without a doubt his weakest stride in pilot warfare, and yet he saw no other alternative. Though he had made invaluable progress over the years, it was still his confidence that impacted his ability to become the best he could be. It was usually VC that took the initiative in combat.

Moments passed before the Vanguard class Titan rocked the earth, smashing against the pavement and sending chunks of concrete and dirt everywhere. The MCOR Captain darted from cover, sprinting for the Titan.

VC's optical unit identified the friendly pilot approaching and instinctively extended his arm and opened the hatch, letting the pilot mount up and take a seat in the cockpit.

"Transferring control to pilot. Welcome back, Caleb."

"Hey, buddy, ready to kick some ass?" Caleb pat the interior wall of the cockpit, greeting his companion.

"My chassis is too large to kick a specific area on the human body."

"Figure of speech, pal. Let's just kill some stuff."

"Understood, shields at maximum, X0-16 loaded, rockets ready and vortex shield standing by."

Caleb took the controls in his hand once his neural link with VC quickly connected. The binary of man and machine raced towards the enemy titan, lifting the massive 20mm chain gun and firing a long, concentrated burst against the Apex Titan's particle wall.

The wall's hue began to darken as the harassment continued. In response, the Tone launched a salvo of rockets and 40mm fire towards the Vanguard class titan, hoping to stop its endless assault.

It did anything but.

VC's massive arm stuck out, catching the hail of rocket fire with the vortex shield before sending the payload rocketing back towards the enemy titan.

"Keep up the pressure, buddy we're doing great." Caleb muttered while focusing on the battle.

Caleb's aggressive Titan combat style for once served the situation well, as they battled against a Titan chassis that was meant to keep the enemy at a distance.

Soon lead met steel as the chaingun tore through both the particle wall and Tone's exterior shield. The two massive war machines exchanged fire while dashing across the muddy battlefield, each pilot doing their best to avoid as much gunfire as possible.

"Caleb, our shields have taken excessive damage!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm workin' on it buddy, just hang in there!"

The firefight continued until the Tone's hatch took excessive damage and tried a last ditch charge against the Vanguard. It threw the heavy 40mm rifle against the Titan, causing Caleb and VC to stumble back before it tried rushing in for close quarters. VC caught both the Tone's arms, locking both Titans in a test of strength.

Caleb observed the situation, noticing the enemy pilot's helmet through the cracks in its hatch.

"VC, get ready to drop the hatch, I'm giving you control."

"Understood. Do not miss."

" _I won't._ "

Caleb withdrew his sidearm, ensuring his Wingman had sufficient ammo. Once ready, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Now!"

The Vanguard class titan hatch opened, catching the hostile pilot off guard. Caleb lifted his sidearm, aligning his sights with his target. He squeezed the trigger, sending the round crashing through the enemy pilot's visor.

With the neural link severed, the enemy titan collapsed backwards.

"Good shot, Pilot."

"Not so bad yourself, pal."

Caleb leapt from the cockpit, making contact with the muddy ground.

"Think you can mop up what's left over here?"

"Affirmative, engaging hostile infantry."

As VC got to work, Caleb raced over to the lifeless hull of the enemy titan. He climbed up and pried the hatch open, reaching for the Apex pilot's wrist computer, knowing there'd be a wealth of information on it. He took a quick glance at the Pilot's corpse, captivated by the helmet. It was a Militia design.

"... _What?_ " Caleb muttered, not expecting to see an Apex merc with Militia gear.

He went to reach for the helmet, only to stop once his headset crackled again.

"SIR! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"Just finished off the enemy titan, what's the sit-"

" _AN ENEMY PILOT JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND WE CAN'T STOP HER! WE NEED BACKUP NOW!_ "

Caleb stood up, glancing over towards the republic outpost, hearing the influx of gunfire. It seemed the phase-shifter decided to make an appearance.

"I'm on my way!"

Captain Orion jumped from the destroyed titan, sprinting towards VC.

"VC! Throw!" He called out.

The Vanguard Titan immediately stopped what it was doing and lowered its hand for the pilot to climb on.

"Over there! I gotta get there, now!" Orion showed the titan his destination, frantically pointing towards the direction of combat.

"Calculating!"

"Just _eyeball_ it!"

"Acknowledged!"

In a moment, the Pilot was propelled into the air, soaring towards the outpost. Even from the air he could see a lone enemy pilot in jet black armor warping in and out of existence around the Militia infantry, cutting them into ribbons in close combat.

Apex was headed for the survivors, wanting no witnesses like every other mess they'd left. Captain Orion prepared to land, using his jump kit to slow his descent. He rolled upon his landing and fired off his wingman at the target.

The enemy pilot blinked out of sight, dodging the volley.

While watching for the enemy, Caleb quickly glanced over his shoulder, looking for the platoon warrant.

"Iroh, you alright?"

The Warrant had been dragging two bleeding soldiers into cover.

"I'm alive! Where'd she go?!"

"I don't kn-"

The hostile pilot appeared right in front of the Militia pilot, feeding him a swift boot the chest, knocking him to the ground. The man winced quickly got to his feet throwing a punch towards the enemy pilot, who ducked effortlessly and launched her elbow against the Pilot's helmet, smashing the right side of his visor, exposing his eye to the brisk air.

Three Militia grunts rushed in to help the captain, drawing their knives and engaging the phase ghost in close quarters. The Apex pilot made short work of the first man, robbing him of his knife and plunging it into his chest.

Caleb joined the fight, rushing the mercenary and kneeing her in the chest and grabbing by the throat, squeezing as hard as he could. The enemy pilot threw all her weight backwards, tumbling back along with Caleb, launching him overhead. She slashed away with the stolen knife as she did, slicing the exposed skin on his arm. He yelped as he was tossed away like nothing.

The next Militia soldier threw a punch, one the pilot easily dodged before breaking his arm over her shoulder. She grabbed the yelling man and snapped his neck mercilessly while approaching the bleeding MCOR pilot.

" _What the hell are you?!_ "

Caleb scrambled to reload his Wingman while the last Militia grunt attempted to attack from behind. He yelled, charging with his knife. The Apex pilot phased out yet again, catching the two men off guard.

Like the scene out of a horror film, the pilot reappeared from the same space occupied by the Militia soldier, causing him to disappear into a red mist of death.

Caleb's jaw slacked behind his helmet. He angrily got to his feet, preparing to fight.

" _I'm gonna kill you…_ " He muttered raising his side arm and knife. "You fucking _freak!_ "

Wright finally arrived, flanking the enemy pilot while Iroh and a handful of Militia troops readied their weapons.

The enemy pilot weighed her options, looking around. The blood drenched pilot was getting tired, that much Caleb could tell from her posture.

" _OPEN FIRE!_ " Caleb screamed, raising his wingman to engage.

All available soldiers unleashed hell, attempting to gun the pilot down.

She phase shifted one last time, getting clear from the immediate danger and made headway towards a dropship hovering in the distance. The platoon moved to engage the dropship, but it made a swift escape, jumping out of sight.

Not long after, Orion's headset blared again.

"Orion, this is McKay, the enemy cruiser is pulling off! You did it! You pushed the enemy back!"

"...No. I think they got what they came for. Is our tracker still working?" Caleb muttered as he watched the fleet of enemy dropships begin to leave the area.

"Yes, it's still receiving active pings on one of their dropships. If it's on that cruiser, we'll find them."

"Then we're going to follow them. Send us a couple of dropships."

"They're on the way."

Caleb slumped against the wall of the outpost and slid down, gripping his bleeding wrist tightly as he did. While yes, he and Wright's men had been the first to fight the Apex Predators and survive since their campaign on the Republic began, it hardly felt like a victory when the casualties and reward was taken into account. An entire colony wiped out, several men killed and injured and all he got was one data-pad and another coordinate to chase.

He wasn't looking forward to reporting to the President.

Caleb's titan had been patrolling the area alone after the platoon returned to the outpost. A casualty collection point was set up shortly after their return under the direction of Iroh. Their wounded were being treated and their dead being collected. Caleb watched in disappointment behind his shattered helmet, sitting alone in silence.

An equally exhausted Lieutenant Wright joined him against the wall. She removed her helmet and ran a hand through her sweaty amber hair.

"You okay?" She asked the relatively quiet Captain.

The man sighed, already sensing a trend developing between the two.

"...I have a feeling you're going to be asking me that more than a few times, Lieutenant."

"Well?" She ignored his comment and instead pried for an answer.

"It's not that bad. I'll have the docs take a look once we're on board. What about you?"

"Just a couple scrapes. Got out relatively untouched this time."

"Lucky." Caleb scoffed. "You did good, though."

"Thank you, Sir."

Wright glanced at the man, seeing his one visible sapphire eye through his broken helmet, feeling pity for the man in that instance.

"What's next?"

"Working on that part. First we'll get everyone patched up and have a chat with our survivors once the docs take a look at them. We'll figure out what happened here and with that intel plus whatever's on this wrist computer i snagged, hopefully we'll get a clearer picture before we walk into another gunfight with these guys...I don't want to fight that pilot again until we know what they're up to."

"...What was that thing anyway?"

"No idea. Some monster for us to put down, that's all I know."

After a few minutes of silence, a small fleet of Crow dropships began to touchdown to pick up the platoon.

Caleb looked to his right, seeing a familiar hallucination joining the two pilots, dressed in a Militia green jumpsuit, giving him a cocky grin.

"Come on." Caleb started, pushing himself off the wet grass. "I want off this planet."

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

 _A/N: Hey everybody, sorry for the delay yet again. I'll be honest I've been in a really downed state about writing. Lost a lot of confidence and desire to write for a while and I'm not exactly sure why. Mix that with my already terrible case of procrastination and you get TheDustyScrub basically. I'll try to do better, but I just had to buckle down and get this one done._

 _On a side note, just to eliminate any confusion going forward. The "Marauder Corps" is indeed a part of the "Frontier Republic"/Militia despite the original Marauders lead by Jacob Herrick defecting from the Militia. This is why Caleb, as an MCOR pilot shot those Marauders last chapter. This isn't canon it's just a little thing I did along side making the Frontier Republic up to govern the Militia._

 _If anyone has questions or ideas I'm always open to chat with. Really fond of Titanfall which is probably why I still have the drive to continue telling this story._


	6. Old Wounds

" _Deliver me from all my needs. Those bitter words that taste so sweet. Delusional, until we fold. Buried under the weight of the world." - Battle Tapes, Weight of the World_

* * *

 _ **TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING**_

 _CHAPTER 6: OLD WOUNDS_

* * *

 **THE FRONTIER  
MCS REDEYE**  
 **MEDICAL BAY  
FRONTIER REPUBLIC MARAUDER CORPS**  
 **CAPTAIN CALEB ORION**

Captain Orion had been the last one to receive medical attention, by his own order. In his own words, there were many more wounded men in worse condition than he was. Thus, when his time came, the medical bay was mostly silent, having cleared out many patients, or others had been resting in the plethora of cots. He'd spent the spare time trying to help out wherever he could, inadvertently getting in the medical team's way. Reluctantly, he obeyed their wishes and stepped aside, left to his anxious impatience.

Presently, the pilot himself was fairly isolated, resting in a chair at the far end of the Redeye's medical bay with his gear slumped next to the wall. The man had finished his treatment yet remained, looking over the wounded while staying nearby if the medics wanted to check up on the arm again. As such, he had his sleeves rolled up, revealing the handful of stitches woven into his arm to close up the wound he received on Alexandria. However, he paid it no mind since the doctor stitched it up, instead focusing on an open notebook as well as the wrist pad he robbed the Apex Titan Pilot of.

Enthralled in the possible findings, Caleb scrolled through the files on the device, hoping he would find relevant data regarding Apex's contract, their contractor, their goal, numbers, _anything_. He scrolled through a few documents regarding this individual pilot's pay incentives per mission until stumbling across a document listed as _contract details_.

The MCOR Captain opened the document. It was painfully brief.

* * *

 **Contract Details  
**  
 _To whom it may concern,_

 _Your services have been engaged by [REDACTED]._

 _Listed below are your main operational concerns._

 _Primary Task: Facilitate the location and detainment of tier one high value target, call-sign "Echo" as detailed in briefing._

 _Secondary Task: Detainment and interrogation of any Militia officers, particularly pilots for information relative to primary task. (Pay incentives will increase per Militia soldier taken alive)_

 _Tertiary Task: Ensuring the operation maintains security._ _No witnesses_ _._

* * *

Caleb scoffed, finding himself with more questions than he had answers. The only confirmation he had found was that the enemy was looking for _someone_ in particular, presumably within the Frontier Republic...Still incredibly vague...At the very least it explained why they had been taking Militia officers and pilots alive. However, he still knew nothing of who exactly hired them and what their goal was. Who were they looking for? Why?

His original assumption was the IMC funding mercenaries to reduce IMC personnel casualties during combat. It was a common practice this late in the war, especially by the IMC's ARES Division, who had hired the Apex Predators in the past. Perhaps the IMC was gunning for high ranking Republic officers and was using expendable contractors to do so? He wouldn't scratch the IMC off the list of possibilities, _but_ he had to question that validity when he took into consideration what the Marauders on Alexandria said…

 _"Well, then you know, with whoever did all this still runnin' around and with the Militia nor the IMC able to stop em'...guy's gotta make a livin' somehow."_

He shook his head, scolding himself for taking something a Marauder said this seriously. Yet, he couldn't shake one thought; What if it _wasn't_ the IMC? Was there a third party involved?

For the time being, he placed the data pad down with the rest of his gear with an exhausted sigh, choosing to leave the speculation to Barker and Briggs once he briefed them and President Day about their findings on Alexandria. They elected to postpone the debrief for a couple of hours while the medics did their work. They did, however, agree with Orion and had chosen to pursue the active tracker once damage to the Redeye was assessed and repaired.

The Pilot sighed, running a hand through his hair before looking around the much quieter medical bay. His attention was focused on a handful of the soldiers wounded by the phase-shifting pilot during the end of the engagement with the mercenaries. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't scrutinizing himself. Caleb had killed plenty of enemy pilots, this shouldn't have been different, and yet the enemy made a complete fool of him and killed several of Wright's soldiers and injured more.

The Captain briefly recalled his conversation with Iroh, knowing full well he'd disappointed the man and let Wright down. For a small sense of familiarity and security, the MCOR pilot lifted his tattered sketch book into his lap, scrolling through the old pages. At his core, he was lonely, making him flip to a page he kept bookmarked with a collection of photos. The page had been crudely torn out a long time ago that he couldn't quite remember all the details, other than it was a drawing of _her_ equipment. The very first one he did. He had sketched another, trying to replace it, but it lacked the same sentiment to him.

The man briefly shifted his attention to the pictures, sifting through them before stopping on one in particular. His thumb traced the wrinkled corners. In the frame two green clad pilots sat on the edge of a bed, the same room he refused to sleep in presently. The woman with jet black hair had her lips pressed against his cheek. They both looked terrible, covered in blood, soot and sweat. And yet, he treasured it as if it were made of the finest gold.

He and Allison took the picture mere minutes before deploying to Demeter. Not an hour had passed since his best friend took a bullet for them and not too long before Keller would sacrifice himself on Demeter alongside MacAllan. It was one of the worst days of his life, competing only with the day Allison was killed in action as well.

The following months were living _hell_. He'd considered a solution to his depression in the form of his sidearm, or the bottom of several bottles, emulating Barker's tendencies. He was only saved by a call from Bish, informing him of a voice signal received by the Militia. The garbled voice sounded familiar, pushing the man and his titan into action yet again, postponing his solution for several years.

He kept trying to deny it, praying she was out there, waiting for him to save her. But as the years dragged on, he lost faith, yet he continued, devoid of any other purpose on the Frontier.

The man could feel wet streaks streaming down his face already. Why he decided to look at it despite his better judgement, he'd never know.

" _...Do you blame yourself?_ "

Caleb looked up at the chair opposite of him, seeing the apparition of Allison leaning forward, visible pity on her face. The woman donned the typical MCOR green suit that he often imagined her in. She looked relatively the same as the photo he had just been viewing.

The man sighed, trying to ignore her at first, hoping she would just leave him be. He would occasionally look up as the minutes went by, still seeing her sitting across from him.

" _Well?_ "

Caleb sighed, learning the hard way that she wouldn't leave.

"...What kind of question is that... _Of course_ I do."

" _It wasn't your fault._ "

"Don't be stupid... _All of it_ was my fault."

" _What makes you say that?_ "

"My best friend was shot to death because I was too arrogant, too _stupid_ to stop it from happening. Keller and MacAllan died because I couldn't turn that battle around. _You_ died because of an order I gave, after rushing off alone, expecting to win against a man who was leagues better than I'll ever be."

" _I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Caleb. I know you tried, you didn't mean for any of that to happen._ "

"I _don't care_ what you think. You're not real...I know I'm crazy...You're not here. _Leave. Me. Alone._ "

Her expression soured, changing to that of the abrupt fear and uncertainty Caleb saw on her face as she fell to her death.

" _You don't mean that._ "

The Captain was lost for words, unable to form any retort while paralyzed by her expression alone. The apparition extended her hand, muttering his name every so often before letting out a blood curdling scream. The Pilot winced and his heart sank fast. He covered his ears and hunched over, shielding himself from the auditory horror and torment.

" _Sir?_ "

Caleb opened his eyes and slowly uncovered his ears, listening for a moment to ensure his harassment had come to end. He looked up, seeing the chair in front of him empty. He quickly wiped his face with his sleeve and glanced over his shoulder, seeing Lieutenant Wright standing sheepishly nearby, a weapon slung over her shoulder.

"Lieutenant." Orion cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Figured you'd be with the survivors, what brings you down here?"

Wright didn't answer at first, too focused staring at the pilot. Orion had tried playing all of it off, but she had been there far longer than she was willing to admit, and she had seen _everything_. The hero she believed Captain Orion to be was revealed to be a broken, suffering man who had no place on the frontlines any longer. The feeling of pity she harbored planet-side returned, much stronger this time.

"I was just there...asked a couple questions before reporting it to Commander Briggs...Just...thought I'd come down and check up on the men...and you...Also had to return this, as promised." Wright slowly unslung the Captain's G2A4 rifle, letting it sit against the cot.

The MCOR soldier stared at the rifle briefly before turning his attention to the reserved Lieutenant.

"Thanks." A stoic response was all he could muster. "Did the survivors give you anything helpful?"

"Well, the woman, Rosa...her husband is a Militia pilot. Taken by the Apex predators. Odds are the enemy is using him for information regarding this mystery person they're after. There's a bit more we can go over later."

"Shit…" Caleb groaned, knowing full well how hard it would be hitting both her and her child. "I'll head down there after my brief with Day. Good work, Lieutenant."

She gave a nod and was about to dismiss herself and let the man be before spotting something.

"Who is _that?_ " Wright asked, looking at the opened journal sitting on the bed next to the Captain.

Caleb glanced over at the journal, scolding himself for leaving it out. He had once refused to let anyone else learn of his crippling weakness. Those who already knew, such as Commanders Briggs and Taube, Graves and Bish, often kept quiet about it. He closed the booklet and tossed it into the pile of gear.

"Someone I used to know."

"You two must've been close...She's very prett-"

"She's dead."

Wright looked to the floor, mentally smacking herself for being inconsiderate. However, she couldn't help but wonder more about the man and the photo. He hadn't exactly been forthcoming about...well, _anything._

Caleb took hold of the G2, momentarily taking in the details of the old rifle before shaking his head and placing it down.

Wright awkwardly took a seat across from the man, where he had been seeing Allison sit before him.

" _...Are you okay?_ "

The Captain chuckled lightly, remembering his own comment about Wright's developing habit of asking if he was alright. Were he to answer truthfully, it would be an obvious response. One he wasn't willing to give.

"I'm fine, Terra. Nothing compared to what I'm used to." He answered, gesturing to the bandages on his arm.

Wright sighed. They both knew he was dodging the question, however she relented, choosing not to push him any further.

"...Well, what _are_ you used to?"

"Worst one was this." Caleb said, gesturing to his other arm.

On his forearm was a massive scar on either side, where Colonel Kenneth Maren of the IMC's 17th Armored Foot-mobile had stabbed him. Using his own arm as a shield was a last ditch effort to avoid the blade being plunged deep into his forehead. Unbelievably painful, yet effective.

"The _son of a bitch_ who did that left a couple marks on me. Gunshots, stabs, burns, you name them."

He tugged at the collar of his uniform, pulling it down by his shoulder where yet another stab scar had been left. Wright took mental note while comparing to her own scars. He looked more like an abstract painting than a man.

"And of course, everyone sees these two."

Orion tapped his left cheek, displaying the horizontal scar just above his stubble and then the left side of his mouth where a vertical scar traveled down his lips.

"Kind of hard to miss, I suppose...Did _he_ make those too?" Wright wasn't entirely sure what ' _he'_ alluded to, but, she tried connecting the two scars to the 'son of a bitch' he spoke about with such venom.

"No." He shook his head. "Cheek was a Militia pilot during the Fracture operation...When I was an IMC Marine. The other, was a Marauder Colonel...that Herrick guy you heard those scumbags mention planet-side. I have a habit of making enemies out there."

Wright looked up, seeing something akin to anger or rage in his eyes. It was the same look he had on the colony just before shooting the two Marauders in the bar.

"Is that why you hate them so much?"

"One of many reasons."

"...What happened to you?"

"Been to a lot of places, got shot at by a lot of people. Yuma system, Troy, Demeter, you name it, I've been there, probably got a scar from it."

"No, not the physical scars. Sir, how did you get _here?_ "

The Captain grunted and leaned back into his chair, reaching for the flask in his gear as he did.

"Not nearly drunk enough to get into that, Wright."

Caleb's wrist communicator beeped, displaying a message from Briggs. She'd requested his presence the moment he was available. He let out a small sigh of relief before standing up.

"Saved by the bell." He started, lightly patting her shoulder as he passed her. "Thanks, Wright. Check up on your men then get some rest. You did good today."

Without another word, the man left, leaving a frustrated Wright behind to watch.

* * *

 **THE FRONTIER  
MCS REDEYE**  
 **INTERSTELLAR COMMUNICATIONS ROOM  
FRONTIER REPUBLIC MARAUDER CORPS**  
 **CAPTAIN CALEB ORION**

Captain Orion hastily made his way for the Interstellar Communications Room, electing not to keep the Commanders waiting any longer than they already had been. While yes, they themselves had delegated that time for himself and the troops to receive medical attention, he'd long overstayed his welcome in order to look after the men and in doing so, had kept not only Briggs waiting, but the President as well. He approached the hatchway, quickly punching in his codes before it slid out of the way to allow entry. From the doorway, he could see both Commander Briggs and Barker in deep discussion, surrounded by many crew members all working diligently at their stations.

"Sorry I'm late."

The MCOR Captain stepped into the room, tossing his hip flask towards Commander Briggs, who caught it immediately.

"Don't worry about it, Kid. You needed a second." Barker was the first to answer, instantly defending his protege.

"How many did we lose?" After taking a swig of the flask and handing it to Barker, Sarah got to business fast, not out of malice, but out of importance.

"Eight dead, plenty more wounded. The other shipboard troops are probably going to have to augment Wright's platoon to keep it up to strength." Caleb answered with a defeated tone, underlying the true anger he felt.

"Speaking of, where's Wright?"

"Seeing to the wounded. I elected to come alone."

"Come on, Caleb, the President told you to play nice with her and Iroh. They're your team for now, and they could use an experienced Pilot helping them lead."

"I understand, Commander." Caleb nodded. "Just...have to get used to the idea of actually having a team again..."

Briggs approached the man, placing a hand on his shoulder. It was a non-verbal acknowledgement of her understanding exactly what he was going through by personal experience. One simply didn't command the SRS without loss or sacrifice. Both had seen their share of death.

"Right. Well, an issue for later I guess." She chuckled lightly. "Come on, President Day is gonna be waiting to hear from you."

Joined by Barker and Sarah, the Captain marched into the interstellar communications room. In the center of the room sat a display table similar to that of the one in the ship's bridge. Commander Briggs nodded to a MRVN unit that stood patiently behind a console. It beeped in compliance, displaying its bright smiley face chest plate before pressing in a few commands with haste.

Moments later, a holographic display of President Day in her office materialized on the table. She had been speaking with an adviser before taking notice of the three MCOR officers addressing her.

"Commanders, Captain, it's good to see you all safe. I've been waiting for your report. Did you reach the Colony, Captain Orion?"

"Yes Ma'am, I was there. I wish I had better news to report...The entire colony was wiped out. It was attacked by the same people who attacked Harmony. We only found two survivors. Lieutenant Wright has already spoken with them, Ma'am, but I intend to sit down with them to ask further questions."

"The entire colony?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"...Who are we dealing with, Captain? Who would do this?"

Caleb pondered for a moment before answering, considering the information he had been thinking about earlier.

"I don't know."

Barker and Briggs turned their heads, confused as to why he'd answer in such a fashion despite mentioning spotting the Apex Predators planet-side. They'd both heard the radio traffic, read Wright's reports and heard the statements of the foot soldiers who had fought there. Yet he contradicted all that information with one statement.

"Captain?" President Day tilted her head after taking notice of the sudden change of aura in the room.

"My first assumption was the Apex Predators, Ma'am. Just as we had discussed on Harmony. If anything, I was close to _damn sure_ that it _was_ them. I even saw the logo down there on an enemy pilot."

"So, what has you doubting yourself?"

"It was something a pirate looter said, believe it or not."

"Go on, Captain." Day leaned forward, cupping her hands together.

"The pirates had said they'd known of several other colonies and worlds being hit by these guys and that neither the Militia or the _IMC_ were able to stop them. One of the Apex Predators' top contractors is the IMC. Why would they cut themselves off from such a wealthy backer by attacking them? The Remnant Fleet run by spyglass, _maybe_. But the conventional IMC? It doesn't make sense."

"Not that I don't believe you. But, I'm skeptical to take the word of pirates."

"As am I. But, I only noticed the one symbol and didn't spot Kuben Blisk or any recognizable foe on the battlefield. I'm not one-hundred percent convinced, but, it may eliminate one group from the possible roster."

"So, regarding who we're after, we're left with more questions than answers?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Could you at very least hazard a guess to what they're after?"

"...They're looking for someone."

"Any idea who?"

"I'm working on figuring that out. We're in pursuit of the same active tracker from Harmony. Wherever they go, we'll find them. All we know as of this moment is that they're taking Militia officers, particularly pilots alive with the intent of locating a target they've designated Echo. I don't suppose that name means anything to you, ma'am?"

The President stopped, taking a moment to think before slowly shaking her head.

"...No, I can't say it does...Suppose if they wanted people to know, they wouldn't be using call-signs."

Caleb exhaled from his nose. He was hoping he could find answers and came up short again.

"In that case, ma'am, I recommend we raise the threat condition for all Militia forces in preparation for possible assaults. I also suggest you up your personal security for your safety ma'am."

"I appreciate the concern, Captain, but I'm confident-"

" _Ma'am_. With all due respect, I just walked through a colony of dead civilians, pilots and soldiers that couldn't stop these guys, and we barely got out of that. I _beg_ you, take the steps to protect yourself."

The room fell silent for a moment. Briggs had considered getting the Captain in line for speaking out of turn to the President, but stopped herself when he made the valid point regarding the enemy's capabilities. President Day stared silently at the Marauder Captain, who was expecting an earful.

"Alright. If you believe there is genuine risk, Captain, I am in no position to doubt you. You haven't let the Militia down before."

Caleb looked at the floor for a brief moment in response to her comment. He had half a mind to correct her broad and very incorrect statement, but elected to stay silent and answer with a nod.

"It seems we're going to be going through a dark period before this is over...Keep me posted with any new information you come up with. Once you're within jump distance to a resupply depot, I'll have Cooper and the Third Militia Grenadiers reinforce you, should you need it."

"Thank you, Ma'am. We'll keep in touch."

"Good luck, Captain."

The hologram soon dissipated, leaving the three officers and the MVRN alone again.

Sarah was the first to leave, stating she'd check with the ship's Captain regarding the status of the tracker and estimated time of arrival...to wherever they were headed. Caleb stayed silent, still staring at the wall in deep thought while Barker leaned against the workstation the MRVN had been using. The drunk had been waiting for Caleb to say something, or do _anything_ for that matter. However, the Pilot stood still, scratching his head in confusion while trying to piece together the situation.

Barker chuckled lightly and unscrewed the cap of the flask that had been tossed by Caleb, and took a quick swig. He instantly recoiled as the liquid struck his taste buds.

"Jesus, what the hell is _that_?"

"That's _your_ moonshine."

" _...Ah..._ An acquired taste."

Barker chuckled again before screwing the cap back on and tossing it back to Caleb, who placed it back onto his belt. Taube sighed out of disappointment shortly after.

"You know, that was one of the habits I didn't want you to pick up from me, kid. At least not _that_ much. Being the Militia's alcoholic is my job."

"Don't blame yourself for this, Barker. I could stop whenever I want. I need an escape sometimes."

The Captain was lying, of course, and found himself locked to the bottle much like Barker had been.

"Look, about that...I've been thinking, _shockin' I know_. But, once this is over...Let's get out there and see what the Frontier is really like, huh? I'll teach you how to be a _real_ pilot, flyin' ships out there in the expanse. Trust me, it's a lot more liberating than sitting in a mech suit gettin' shot at, I'd know. I've still got friends in Angel City, we could get a group going!"

"I don't think I'd be all that good at coasting, Barker. I'm where I'm needed."

"Never know until you try, kid...I want more for you than just...fightin' the IMC and random evil mercenaries until you're dead."

"But...We've trained so long just to get me to this level...this is the _one_ thing I'm good at. Between Mac and you, I've got so much training value put into me and you want to give it up? What's changed?"

"Look kid, there's more to life than fighting. Even out here on the Frontier. Yeah, you're good at this. But after this long I've realized...that I wish you _didn't need_ to be so good at it. Does that make sense?"

Caleb pondered for a moment. With Barker, it was the closest thing anyone would get to a 'I care about you'. While Barker would always be the clumsy drunk and ace pilot that many Militia soldiers knew of, he would always have a small part of a soldier still in him. That soldier in him was what trained Caleb to his current level and what continued to care about him. However, to Caleb, safety was never a guarantee, no matter how much you cared or tried.

He looked up, giving a quick shrug before speaking.

"...No one ever said this was a safe job, I guess. Occupational hazards?"

"You're stubborn, kid. Damn stubborn."

"I get it from you."

Caleb joined the man, leaning against the workstation wall while the MRVN droid awkwardly stared at the two men. Barker responded in the form of a quick shoulder hug before pushing himself off the wall.

"I should get back to work before Sarah kicks my ass. But, think about it, will ya?"

"Okay." Caleb nodded. "I will. But, first we fight, _then_ we drink."

Barker grinned.

"Ha. First we fight, then we drink. I like that."

* * *

 **THE FRONTIER  
MCS REDEYE**  
 **TITAN HANGAR BAY  
FRONTIER REPUBLIC MARAUDER CORPS**  
 **LIEUTENANT TERRA WRIGHT**

Wright wandered, unable to sleep like most nights. With her hands stuffed into the pockets of her sweats, her eyes tracked the floor, aimlessly guiding her all over the ship. She'd hoped that something useful would come out of her restlessness, such as learning the ins and the outs of the ship, or maybe finding a way to calm her nerves as she scanned the steel plating. However, she still found herself lost after every turn until it took her to the Titan bay, just as anxious as ever.

Multiple machines of war were suspended from cranes over the drop bays, desperately awaiting battle and to be released from the confines of the ship. One specific Titan caught her attention. A Vanguard Class Titan that sported a Ranger Green coat of paint with gunmetal grey accents. The cockpit hatch bore a traditional black ace of spades with the text _faith_ printed in white just above it. This machine was VC 5394, Captain Orion's titan that he had called in during the waning moments of the Battle of Alexandria. The Lieutenant stopped, observing the titan. She was intrigued, having believed that only SRS Pilots were given Vanguard Class Titans. To her knowledge, the Captain wasn't a member of the SRS.

The woman approached, placing her hand on some bullet scoring along the right leg of the machine. In reaction to the presence of a Pilot, the Vanguard's blue iris lit up and raced around the room, searching for the source until fixating on the casually dressed, amber haired pilot below.

"Hello? VC?" Wright sheepishly croaked.

The unit that housed the iris, commonly referred to as the Titan's head for ease, tilted quizzically upon Wright's greeting. With a synthetic, artificial calm voice, VC spoke.

"Hello, Lieutenant Wright. It is currently after duty hours, can I assist you?"

"Couldn't sleep so I've just been wandering around...Didn't mean to bother you, big guy."

"It is no bother, Lieutenant. If I can help, I will do so."

Wright flashed the Titan a quick smile before thinking. Talking usually did help to calm her nerves. She looked up to see the Titan patiently waiting for a response.

"Did your chassis take any damage while we were on the ground?"

"Caleb stated that you may be inclined to ask such a question along the lines of 'are you okay'. Only slight damage to report, critical systems are functional and all hard armor damage will be repaired within the coming day. VC 5394 fully operational, Lieutenant."

The Lieutenant nodded, still adjusting to the 'professionalism' that came with Titans inherently via their tone and mannerisms. However, VC in particular seemed to share at least some traits with Captain Orion. Like the Marauder Corps pilot, the titan dropped formalism when discussing him in particular. VC's focus was something to note as well...The Titan's optical unit wandered, observing everything out of _interest_ rather than focusing solely on the Lieutenant out of programmed obedience.

"And you, Lieutenant?"

The question came as a surprise to her. She hadn't expected the war machine to express interest.

"Me? Oh. Well, I'm _okay_. Didn't take any hits down there. Wish I could say the same for some of my men and the Captain."

"As Caleb has told me, many of them will recover. For mental resiliency, try to focus on the fact you were victorious in dealing casualties to the enemy and pushing them off world. Taking deep breaths may also help. Accurate battlefield performance review could also be a source of positivity. For instance, Caleb told me you fought well, I'm sure your men would agree. As for Pilot Orion, he will be fine. It will take more than that to stop him."

"I'll...keep that in mind, VC. As for the Captain, it definitely seems that way...It barely seemed to phase him, he told me he'd been through a lot worse."

"We have."

"Like?"

VC's optical unit squinted, quizzically investigating the pilot. Wright could only assume the Titan was eyeing her up, cautiously choosing his response, weighing the reasons why she would ask such a question.

"I have been linked to Captain Caleb Orion for one thousand eight hundred and forty six days, of which we have participated in many battles. And even before we were linked, he fought alongside my original pilot for many months, both with and against the IMC. I have witnessed him undergo intense physical and mental pain. This enemy pilot may have bested him this time, but it will not happen again."

"You and the Captain weren't originally linked? I'd assumed you were commissioned for him."

"No. I was linked with Captain Orion those years ago as a final decision by my previous pilot, Captain Allison Sorin, formerly of the IMC."

"Who was s-"

"Why do you ask, Lieutenant?"

VC had cut her off, in a similar fashion as the Captain. It seemed she struck a nerve not only with Caleb, but also a circuit for VC.

"Well. Iroh and I are supposed to be working with this guy and everything we know about the guy kind of seems to be blown out of proportion. I want to believe these stories that he's a hero...But all I see is pain and rage."

"How would being informed of his history assist in unit combat effectiveness?"

"Trust, for starters."

VC's tone modulated a slightly peeved voice, not quite being convinced of the importance.

"The necessity to know one's past to deem them trustworthy is a uniquely human quality."

" _Geez_ , don't tell me I'm _human_?!" Wright scoffed, half joking.

"I detect sarcasm."

"Sorry." She answered with a shrug before stuffing her hands back into her pockets. The Lieutenant leaned against a supply crate, eager to hear more.

"I have done the math, the probability of Caleb risking bodily harm or death to ensure the survival of friendly Militia forces, regardless of class, rank or position, is projected to be ninety percent. I can assure you that, despite not opening himself to anyone on this ship other than myself and Commander Taube, he trusts you and everyone else aboard."

"He's got a funny way of showing it."

"Do not take offence. Caleb has hardly ever been a socially intelligent person. Once battlefield trauma was applied, you could imagine it saw an even sharper decline."

Wright grunted and slid down the crate, looking up at the Titan.

"Let me ask you, Lieutenant. Would you expose your history to any new colleague if requested to?"

"If it helped them trust me. Then yeah, I would."

"Have you tried this method with the Captain?"

"He...seems _distracted_..."

Wright recalled briefly watching the Captain in the medical bay. He was speaking to someone. At first she had thought he'd been on the comms with someone, but his intense reactions alluded to something more personal going on.

Wright sighed, rubbing her forehead in slight frustration.

" _Besides_...I would if I could remember more than just a few things."

"What do you mean?"

"I took a _'really bad hit'_ on Typhon. Apparently." Wright shrugged with a sigh. "I can't really remember much outside of touching down, the platoon commander getting shot, stepping up and then waking up on a Militia frigate in orbit after the fold weapon destroyed the planet...I haven't told the Captain about that little detail yet..."

"A deficit in memory caused by brain damage. Likely amnesia."

"Yeah I know. The docs and Iroh had to fill in the blanks. I can't even really remember my family that well. They're back on Harmony. The doctors think it'll all come back to me eventually."

"I am sorry, Lieutenant. I imagine that is disheartening. Doctor Carver in the medical wing specializes in mental health. I recommend speaking with her should you need assistance...Though I cannot understand why you have not told Caleb while scrutinizing him for his closed nature."

"Could you imagine how a soldier like _that_ would see me? A new pilot who can't even remember where she was born? Think he'd trust me to lead those men and women into combat? I guess I'm trying to focus on making new memories with what I've got right now. I need people I can trust to do that, and people that can trust _me_."

"You must give him more credit than that. As he has told me, you have displayed battlefield cunning and leadership. He would not lie about something as important as that."

"Maybe." Wright anxiously toyed with a chunk of her locks while considering her options regarding the subject.

VC stayed quiet again, squinting and looking around the room while thinking his next course of action. For once, the Titan found itself stumbled and rather unsure of what to do. He, _a war machine_ , was being confided in by the Lieutenant while the conversation had started about her being unable to trust the Captain and raising their effectiveness via cohesion. Now, it managed to flip the other way, concerning Caleb's trust of her. If VC could sigh, he would have.

Technically, he had a duty to increase battlefield effectiveness and was convinced by the Lieutenant that he _had_ an opportunity to assist with that. On the other hand, Caleb was more than just a Militia Pilot, a piece on the battlefield to levy numbers over the IMC. He was his _friend_. For Caleb's sake, VC needed Wright to trust him, and for her sake as a Militia ally, he needed Caleb to trust her.

No easy feat, the Titan mused.

Terra watched the Titan ponder before toying with her dog tags as she waited for a response.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the Titan spoke.

"Caleb was born on Nye. Here on the Frontier. He served as an IMC Marine alongside his best friend, Philip Spear. They friends before enlisting, knowing each other for years. The two were under a man named Staff Sergeant Eric Keller, a career IMC soldier. During the Fracture operation, their entire unit, Echo 6-1, was wiped out by the Militia."

Terra looked up with a brow raised, moments ago she could swear she had failed miserably to convince the Titan.

"Separated, Caleb thought his friends were dead and was attached to an IMC Pilot squad led by an extremely dangerous man, Colonel Kenneth Maren. More importantly, he was brought to that unit by my pilot, Captain Allison Sorin."

"...How did he join the Militia?"

"Caleb deliberately let the mutineer James MacAllan and Robert 'Barker' Taube escape from IMC patrols in Angel City after becoming disillusioned with the IMC regarding their treatment of Frontier civilians and conduct of operation. The same such incident resulted in Caleb gunning down an IMC pilot to ensure his treason went undetected. He continued serve in the IMC, held back by only one thing."

"... _Whoa_...I knew that he _worked_ with MacAllan...but I never knew that it was Captain Orion himself in the story of MacAllan's escape…It sounds _oddly familiar_."

The Lieutenant scratched her chin, trying to remember anything that could help her connect the dots, to no avail.

"It is likely that Warrant Officer Iroh filled you in with many details regarding the Frontier War during your recovery. The Battle of Angel City is marked with both fame and infamy for the Militia and IMC respectively."

"Yeah, maybe you're right...But, one thing doesn't make sense to me. If he killed an IMC pilot and let MacAllan go, why'd he stay? Why risk detection and death for an organization he hated?"

"My pilot."

Wright could hazard a guess based on what she saw earlier. But still, she asked.

" _Why?_ "

VC looked towards the steel paneled flooring. If apprehension was ever projected by a Titan, this was it.

"In his own words, _he loved her_. Caleb had developed a particular rage regarding the Colonel's use of my pilot in warfare. Captain Sorin wasn't officially inducted into the IMC. She was trained off the record by Maren after her mother was killed by the old MCOR. She left her drunkard father and joined Maren to seek revenge. If I were to evaluate her psychological profile, it would no doubt come back as sociopathic in nature. She was kind, but dangerous and cruel at times."

"Suppose that comes with being a pilot."

"No, Lieutenant. Captain Sorin was my friend, but she was anything but well. It was my early hypothesis that Lance Corporal Orion was a factor in maintaining her decaying sanity. When he was ousted by Maren and nearly killed, she defected after being ordered to execute him. Were it any other person, they would be dead with zero hesitation."

VC's recital was accurate to the letter as he had either seen many of the events personally or had been informed of them in great detail by Sorin herself after the fact.

"I was loyal to my pilot, therefore I went with them. Maren used her as psychological warfare against the Militia, as well as a near unstoppable killing machine. I do not believe she had any care regarding the outcome of the war, and only cared for killing as many Militia soldiers as she could. That was until she met the Lance Corporal. For that reason alone she contained herself once joining the Militia."

"Did the Captain know about all that? She sounded like a scary woman."

"Not all of it. He knew of her past and hatred of the Militia, but not to the extent that I observed personally. Caleb saw her humanity and thought he could save her. But, at first he was terrified of her. I assume to an extent it never faded. This was to be expected as Maren often used her as a disciplinary tool to keep him and other IMC soldiers in line."

Wright found herself shocked. The man who fought on the colony did not seem like the person to see the best in people and try to fix the issue with diplomacy and compassion. He'd sooner end the problem down the barrel of a B3 Wingman or at the bottom of a flask. It was still unfathomable to her regardless. Whether it was engaging the enemy head on or trying to fix sociopaths, Orion always seemed to dive in recklessly.

"I see that he was just as crazy back then as he is now."

"Passionate is the word I would use, Lieutenant. He and Captain Sorin continued to work together closely until they developed a romantic relationship. Shortly beforehand, it was revealed that both Keller and Spear had survived, and had joined the Militia. To many, this period would be euphoric. Caleb was terrified."

"Why? He had everything he needed...He had his friends, Sorin, a cause worth fighting for."

To an extent it was something that Terra envied. Since Typhon she couldn't even remember her own family. The Captain on the other hand had it all and appreciated it in a way she detested. He had refused to simply enjoy what he had.

"He was afraid of losing it all. He had everything he needed except the skill to keep them all safe. As a mere rifleman he deemed it impossible to protect those he cared for. James MacAllan took him under his wing shortly after to begin training as a Militia pilot. Thus began a path of self destruction as he fought desperately to prepare himself for whatever the IMC could throw at him."

"...Talk about putting pressure on yourself...Just a kid thinking he could do it all himself..."

"Yes. It is something we have both already seen you do."

Wright looked up, ready to retort but stopped herself. VC had been right. She hadn't had a decent rest since her promotion and it had only worsened upon being given command of the operation. She sighed, sliding down a supply crate while the Vanguard class Titan watched.

"Though he was successful in becoming a pilot, he was unsurprisingly unable to achieve the level of skill that he deemed necessary. Philip Spear was killed in action while assaulting Air Base Sierra, taking a gunshot wound from Colonel Maren's weapon that would have killed either him or Captain Sorin.

Wright could hazard an educated guess that this Maren was the man Caleb had been referring to earlier regarding his wounds.

"Hours later, both James MacAllan and Eric Keller were killed in the blast on Demeter. Caleb claims he was unable to save them."

Wright could already see the route the conversation was taking, and felt slightly guilty for how she regarded the Captain. In the end, all he really wanted to do was protect people, even if he was crazy.

"Several months later, he and Sorin split over an argument regarding his self destruction. Less than a week later she was presumed killed in action after fighting Colonel Maren. Captain Orion was near death and could do nothing but watch as she plummeted to her death after the building they were on was decimated by an airstrike...that he had called in."

Terra thought back to the mess of a human being she saw in the medical bay and finally understood the reason why.

"...Jesus...VC, I'm so sorry, I had no idea...I wouldn't have pursued."

"Pilot Sorin was a cunning warrior and a good friend. I miss her. But, there is no reason to apologize, Lieutenant."

"...You said _presumed_...?"

"There was no body, and a message with her voice was received by the Militia. But no further communication was ever established regardless of the countless attempts and several years searching by myself and the Captain."

"...I don't even know what to say. I can't even imagine what that feels like."

"He once told me, _the one thing worse than seeing all of my friends die, is the fact that I didn't._ "

"... _Damn_ …"

"The Captain experiences an extreme case of survivors guilt on a daily basis, I ask that you exercise patience, Lieutenant. I also ask that you have a real discussion with Caleb. Make him understand your concerns and your...difficulty. He may be brash. But he is a good soldier, and a good man."

"Yeah...I'll do that. Thanks for the talk VC, I'll let you get back to... _resting? Do you rest?_ Never mind, I'll see you around VC."

"I am hard to miss, Lieutenant. Have a good night."

Terra pat the Titan's leg before retiring to her quarters for the night.

.

.

.

.

.

" _How many did we lose?"_

" _Enough. Handful of pilots and a platoon of Infantry. Those fucking Marauder Corps Pilots tore them a new asshole out there."_

" _Shit...damn Militia...Well, I suppose there's a bright side...More loot for everyone else then. Tell me we got something else out of it though?"_

" _We grabbed about a dozen Militia officers from the colony itself. Couple pilots are with them."_

" _Have you started questioning them?"_

" _Yeah, been off and on with a couple of the troops."_

" _Good. Quicker we get this over with, quicker we can bug out."_

" _We can't keep doing this."_

" _What do you mean? You know the details, we get Militia troops, we question Militia troops, we kill who ever gets in our way, we get paid. It's a simple system."_

" _And how long until the Republic sends a strike team after us? You saw how hard those Militia bastards fought back there. They came too soon for it to be just an investigation. They know us now. We can't fight the Republic, the mainline IMC and Spyglass' Remnant Fleet all at once, it's suicide."_

" _We stay the course, we find that slippery son of a bitch, get paid and go home. That's the mission."_

" _We're gonna go home in body bags at this rate!"_

" _I'm not stopping. I'm never gonna stop until I see that bastard in front of me and complete the mission."_

" _So, what, we just keep scooping up Militia pilots until someone knows who em? You seem way too confident in scouring the entire goddamn Frontier for one person! We don't even know if he's ali-"_

" _He's alive."_

" _What makes you so sure?"_

" _Don't underestimate the Militia. Most of all, don't underestimate him. For all our sakes we better be prepared for a hell of a fight."_

" _Hope you have a plan then."_

" _There's more than one way to skin a cat, my friend. Change of plans. We'll draw him out."_

" _What do you have in mind?"_

" _Hold that thought, I've got to talk with the boss. Any idea where I can find-"_

" _Relieving some stress."_

" _...Understood...Poor bastards."_

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

 _A/N: Hey folks, hope you enjoyed. I know it's a pretty dialogue and exposition heavy chapter but there is a reason for that. Mainly I'm just not skilled enough a writer yet to get around this obstacle called context and weight. Personally, it felt too lazy to do a couple "cut to black" scenes to skip important information being absorbed by other main characters who weren't present during the first story. In a way I guess it also serves as a recap of the abysmal first book aha. The result was a pretty long chapter of talking. So, I do apologize if that's not really your thing and hope it doesn't put you off as we're really kicking off now._

 _It was also difficult to get this one out too. On the side, I've been brainstorming (for quite a long time now) about one or two original works I'd like to do, so that's been a colossal undertaking as well. That plus Strangers still being worked on because it has taken a serious back burn for a while now. Add in social life, work and general laziness. Big oof._

 _On a more story related note, I really hope everyone is fond of what's being done here character wise. This downed Caleb is something new I'm trying out, and probably not doing too great but I'm learning a lot. Wright at the moment has that positive naiveness that's more akin to Jack Carver from my other story. But, attitudes are susceptible to change. Barker I've always loved since the first campaign, so I'm trying to stay true to his character while also adapting this somewhat father figure motif for him and Caleb that was lost when MacAllan and Keller were killed. Iroh will get more love later, don't you worry - I've got something very special planned. VC is definitely a character who needs more time to shine so it's been a big objective to have him commonly on the forefront._

 _Anyways, thanks for reading guys. Really appreciate it. Already jumping on the next one, so stay tuned for that._

 _\- The Dusty "Can't get more than one chapter out in less than a month" Scrub_


	7. Homecoming

" _I fight and I fight, just to keep the spark alive, but if there's nothing on the other side...Why can't I leave well enough alone and go to the light." - Murder By Death, Go To The Light._

* * *

 _ **TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING  
**_

 _CHAPTER 7: HOMECOMING_

* * *

" _Well?"_

" _Plan got greenlit."_

" _You don't seem thrilled about that."_

" _Boss wasn't in a particularly friendly mood, let's just put it at that."_

" _I'm guessing the batch from Alexandria hasn't been the most forthcoming with intel?"_

" _You could say that. Some lippy shits in the lot, too."_

" _Damn it. Hope you're right about this new plan then, or we're gonna be swimming in shit soon."_

" _Trust me, they'll be there. I've got something special in mind."_

* * *

 **THE FRONTIER  
MCS REDEYE  
INTERVIEW ROOM  
FRONTIER REPUBLIC MARAUDER CORPS  
CAPTAIN CALEB ORION**

Captain Orion made his way to the ship's interview room. What was originally intended to be used for detainees or hostile VIPs, had been made into a temporary shelter for the two civilians in the crew's care since their rescue on the colony.

Bish would often tell Caleb of the old days when entire families, regardless of the danger, would be on Militia 1st Fleet ships, joining the crew as they fled from IMC pursuit with no safe refuge to run to. Both Militia officers were pleased those days were behind them. With that in mind, both Caleb and Captain McKay weren't thrilled with having noncombatants aboard.

The Captain approached the steel doorway at the end of a long accessway, remembering it being much more rusted and dainty five years ago. Truly, the ship had undergone a complete overhaul, leaving the man to wonder if it really was the old Redeye considering much of the chassis had been updated to match that of the MacAllan Class ships that littered the 9th fleet. It hardly looked the same, inside or out. The Captain and much of the senior staff would assure him that at her core, the ship was the Redeye, but Caleb would refer to it more as a Franken-ship...an odd collection of parts.

Getting back on track, the man spotted a lone Militia rifleman standing stalwartly by the doorway, peering into the one way paned glass. He could safely assume that Wright positioned the soldier there for the civilian's protection, or to at least keep them from wandering too far. The young infantry soldier had his sleeves rolled, with forearms draped in bandaging just like the Captain.

The soldier glanced over his shoulder, seeing the MCOR Pilot approach. He spun on his heel to face the man, straightening his posture to greet the Captain.

"It's been all quiet, Sir." The man reported with a trained discipline. It was excessive, considering the lack of a current threat.

Caleb responded in the form of a nod and a light pat on the shoulder.

The soldier stood clear of the door, granting the Pilot access to the interview room. The Captain took hold of the airtight latch, lifting the bar and pushing the door inward. The door's seal gave a high pitched hiss as it swung open. Caleb stopped, inspecting the room prior to entry.

It was hardly expansive, or cozy. The steel walls had been covered by padding that was a feeble attempt to make the room a bit more inviting to the two civilians within as opposed to a steel box. A single cot had been moved into the corner with a selection of blankets for the inhabitants.

The adult survivor, the woman, looked up at the doorway as the Captain entered.

"Are you alright?" Caleb asked. "Do you have everything you need?"

The woman stared silently at the Captain, instantly recognizing him as the Militia pilot that had saved her and her child from the onslaught on Alexandria. With neither an objection or an answer to his questions voiced, Captain Orion stepped into the small room, taking a seat at the single table in the middle of the room, slouching back in the chair.

The two adults sat in silence, not entirely focused on the other. In the corner of the room, the woman's son sat slumped in another chair, completely passed out and draped in a Militia rifleman's jacket next to the bed. Caleb could just barely make out the name, reading it as "E. RAMIREZ". He lingered for a moment, somewhat befuddled at the sight. He hadn't thought about it planetside due to the adrenaline and his typical mission-oriented thinking, but now that he saw the kid, it was an odd thing to see on a warship.

He foolishly hoped that the boy didn't see much of the massacre in the settlement. He hardly wanted to think about how such a horrifying experience would alter the child's mind. It was a fair assumption to say many of the boy's friends were murdered if Caleb's experience on the colony was anything to go by.

The Captain would never get used to seeing dead children. Caleb twitched a bit at the thought while his hands fidgeted.

Caleb glanced over his shoulder, peering at the opaque side of the one-way mirror, figuring the jacket covering the child belonged to the soldier standing guard outside.

He turned his attention back to the woman, who now stared at him impatiently.

"Rosa, was it?" He asked.

" _Rosaline_ and I've already answered all of the questions your partner, Wright, asked. Are you going to rescue my husband or the other colonists they took?" The woman spoke, understandably impatient and frustrated.

"I'm planning on it, _yeah._ "

The woman noticed something different about this Militia soldier. No notebooks, no pens, no recording devices, no absolute _bombardment_ of questions. He lacked the attempted professionalism of the others. He hadn't even formally introduced himself yet. He just sat there, leaning back in his chair while observing her and her child.

She cocked a brow as the Captain rested his elbows on the table prior to speaking again.

"We're following them as we speak with a tracker. But I'm gonna be honest I'm not keen on having you and your boy here on this ship when we're charging after these guys."

"Where else are we supposed to go? You saw what they did to our home."

"I can have you sent to Harmony once we make a jump to a friendly system. With an escort." Caleb wasn't sure if he was making empty promises, but then again, no one usually told him no.

"We'll be fine for the time being..." Rosa seemed apprehensive about her answer.

Caleb offered a defeated shrug with an irritated sigh.

"You know, this ship tends to get _shot up_ quite a bit. We're bullet magnets out here."

"I just can't wait while my husband is out there! What am I supposed to do? Play _house_ on Harmony while I have _no idea_ what's happening?"

It dawned on Caleb that there was more at stake than just the investigation, more than just hunting the enemy down and getting even for the ass-kicking he got planetside...There were possible survivors that needed rescuing. Her apprehensive answer made more sense to the socially inept Pilot now. She was more than likely afraid to leave the Captain's protection, and certainly didn't want to leave while her husband and friends were still out there. Both were fair reactions, Caleb noted.

It didn't mean he was a fan of the idea. However, Caleb took advantage of the mention of her husband.

"What's his name?"

" _What?_ " Rosaline recoiled, shocked by the abrupt change of topic.

"I said, what is his name?"

"...Zach Mercer, he's a Lieutenant. A pilot, like you." The woman fumbled into her pocket, withdrawing a photo with a shaky hand before placing it on the table and sliding it to the Captain. "He used to pilot Titans for cargo haul at the docks before joining up with the Militia..."

Caleb took hold of the creased photo and looked down. Taking the details in. The man was maybe a little bit younger than him, or at least looked that way. Blonde hair, light green eyes complimented by a wide smile worn in a family photo.

"Alright." Caleb said nonchalantly.

" _Alright?_ Alright, _what?_ "

"I'll do my best." Caleb gently handed the photo back to Rosaline before slouching back into his chair again.

"You'll find him?"

"Yeah, I will. I believe that the abductees are still alive. These bastards need them for a little manhunt, and we're gonna find out why. And then I'm going to get _even._ "

While making a statement with such finality was not the wisest thing to say, the Captain felt confident in his capabilities and truly believed that he _needed_ to succeed. At this point, failure wasn't an option.

Nonetheless, Rosaline's expression became much warmer than her previous apprehension. If Caleb were any wiser, he'd swear there was a trace of tears welling in her eyes. He prayed that he hadn't gotten her hopes up and that he could make good on the faith placed in him.

His eyes trailed over to the child still sleeping in the corner before looking back to Rosaline. In a brief moment, he thought of Allison again, wishing the two of them had gotten a chance at a real-life, should they have had the time and freedom. Orion exhaled and stopped himself from going any further down that line of thought by fleeing the situation.

"I'll let you get some rest. I'll keep you posted with any updates. Let the trooper on guard know if you need anything."

The Captain abruptly stood up, making way for the door.

"Thank you, Captain...For saving us down there...and looking for my husband."

Orion stood with a pensive expression for a moment before speaking.

"Sorry I wasn't there sooner."

He offered a single nod before excusing himself. Once the door shut behind him, Caleb covered his face with his palms, grunting into them loudly.

"...Is everything alright, Sir?" The guard asked.

"Everything's fine... _Ramirez_ , was it?"

"Yes, Sir. Private Eddy Ramirez."

"Right...Well, keep up the good work." Caleb produced a rather vain compliment after failing to think of anything else to say.

Caleb pushed himself off the hatch to walk off, believing the exchange to be done.

"Sir...Can I ask you a question?"

Captain Orion glanced over his shoulder, seeing Ramirez watch the civilians through the mirror. On the interior, Rosaline had taken her place at her son's side, lifting him gently and placing him into the cot before sitting in the chair next to it. She wiped a collection of tears from her face.

"What is it, kid?"

"...What the hell was that thing down there?" Ramirez had been nervously rubbing the wraps around his forearms before adjusting a bandage on his neck, covering a slash that had _barely_ missed the young man's throat.

Caleb hadn't noticed the neck wrap earlier, simply too distracted to truly take in the details of Ramirez's appearance. He reprimanded himself for being dismissive of his subordinates.

Orion looked down at his own arm, covered in a bandage as well. He thought of answering with a quip, or something cocky like he used to do regularly. But when he gave it more thought...He really had no idea what he was up against.

"I don't know. I've never seen anything other than a Simulacrum phase-shift before. And even then, not _that frequently._ "

"...How are we going to take down something that we can't shoot?"

"I'm still working on that part."

"Well, regardless, if you didn't show up when you did, those civvies in there would be dead."

Caleb looked up, stunned.

"... _What_?"

Ramirez caught wind of the Captain's shock and cleared his throat.

"She was trying to get past us. Cutting through us to get inside. She almost did until Warrant Iroh, myself and Bradford tried to tackle her down…"

He gestured to the bandage.

"I got lucky...Bradford...well...not so much…"

Caleb approached the mirror and Ramirez, staring him down intensely.

"Ramirez... _did that thing see them?_ " He asked, pointing at the woman and child within the room.

The young soldier nodded slowly with an apprehensive look, seeing what the Pilot was getting at.

"...Y-Yes, Sir."

"... _Fuck_ …" Orion muttered, smacking a palm against his forehead.

"...What do we do, Sir?"

"Hope they don't come looking to tie up loose ends. We've got everything they want on this ship. Supplies, Militia officers, the survivors…"

Captain Orion grunted and cursed under his breath. Yet again, a wrench had been thrown into the mission, raising the tension and stress the crew was already under. He angrily stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned to leave, only looking at the Soldier once more to state a command.

"Double the guard."

"Sir?"

"You heard me, can't be too careful out here. With these mercs running around plus pirates, I'm not taking any chances with the civvies. No one sees these civilians without direct authorization from Captain McKay or myself."

The mention of pirates seemed to stump the Private. He was present when the Captain gunned down the two Marauders in the bar with no remorse, and was sure he'd do it again if given the chance.

"Yes, Sir."

With that, Caleb stormed off, needing time and space to come up with a course of action.

The Marauder Corps Pilot wandered the vast halls of the vessel until he reached the observation deck; his usual thinking spot. The man leaned against the firm steel railing that lined the expansive viewport that formed a half-circle around the deck.

Captain Orion clasped his palms together while staring out into the void of space, searching for answers to his problems in the millions of visible beacons that littered the blackness.

When they met the enemy again, _and they would certainly meet again_ , what was he to do?

He was originally charged with a simple mission; find the enemy, figure out what they wanted, and then kill them. Now, he had civilians to rescue and a plethora of mysteries to solve. Who were they after and what good did hitting civilian colonies do? And who the hell was supplying the enemy all the manpower and equipment? They had special forces grade infantry equipment and military spec Titans equal to that of the Frontier Republic's arsenal.

Needless to say, the Captain's mission changed. Caleb pondered how to go about rescuing captives when the enemy was so proficient at stealth, swift operations and keeping the enemy at a distance unless they wanted to engage. Perhaps he could distract them with a pitched battle while attempting to infiltrate their stronghold.

That plan alone revealed another problem in itself, finding their base of operations. He wasn't exactly sure what they used, and where they'd even be. He groaned, realizing that to make any progress, he would need to endure a lengthy discussion with Wright and McKay before making any decision.

Caleb sighed, getting nowhere with planning.

Eventually, his mind doubled back to the colony. The smell of burning corpses had stuck with him since they left and made his skin crawl. He couldn't shake the number of corpses that littered the streets and interiors of homes. Men, women, and children. Caleb tried to latch onto the fact that at least Rosaline and her son were alive, but he couldn't find comfort in the very real fact that they were _not_ safe.

Burying his head into his hands, Caleb let out another agitated sigh originating from his lack of focus.

" _You seemed a little jealous in there._ " A soft voice broke the silence on the deck.

Caleb didn't even bother to investigate the voice. He knew no one was there with him. Not really.

This time was different, however, as he managed to stay relatively calm. He was too tired, too shaken to bother fighting it this time. He let his hallucination run its course.

"I was." He admitted, finally looking up and to his right, seeing Allison lean against the railing next to him.

She'd been watching the stars as intently as Caleb himself had done his first time on the observation deck all those years ago. It occurred to him at that moment that he hadn't focused on the details of her face since the hallucinations began, and prior to that he often avoided looking at her picture.

Now he found himself lost.

Enigmatic, intricate, dangerous, and beautiful. All expressed by orbs of emerald green and locks of jet black.

Caleb stared at her longingly, trying to hold his composure and fighting the urge to try and hold her as if she was really there with him.

" _Really? I wasn't expecting you to be honest about that. Are you ready to talk?_ "

Caleb didn't answer at first, instead offering a subtle defeated head shake. He chose to ignore both the comment and the question, beginning to speak his mind.

"That's all I ever wanted for you. A chance to have a normal life. No war, no killing. Just us and a shot at being free. Remember when I told you about the high waves and green trees on Nye? That's what I wanted."

" _It never really mattered to me, as long as we were together._ "

"It mattered to _me_. I couldn't stand what Maren turned you into. What _I_ turned you into."

She turned to face him.

" _What do you mean?_ "

"A weapon. We turned you into a weapon. I thought that by killing Maren I could undo what he did to you."

" _It wasn't your fault...The Frontier made me something else long before I met you. I was fighting since I was sixteen, Caleb._ "

Caleb wouldn't have any excuse.

"You needed me, and I let rage and my own sense of what was right get in the way of that. I never realized that I was doing the same thing he was all along. I could've fixed it... _fixed us_ , if I wasn't so blind. I wanted to protect you...But look at what I did. The only difference between Maren and I was that I wasn't giving you orders. IMC or Militia, didn't matter, we still made you kill."

" _You only did what you thought was right. No one can fault you for that. I don't._ "

"Yeah, and it turned out to be completely wrong. I thought by being the best I could save everyone. Instead, everyone ended up dead and I needed you to save me from Maren...And I called in that _god damn_ airstrike."

" _Caleb, don't do this to yourself._ "

"I _killed you_ , Allison."

" _Caleb, you need to let g-_ "

"It should've been me, I know that."

"Captain Orion, it's Lieutenant Wright." Caleb's radio abruptly rang out. The Captain looked down at his belt where the radio cracked from. Out of instinct, his hand went for it, but he stopped himself. He exhaled loudly as his hand retracted.

He turned to face Sorin again.

"Allison, I'm sor-"

She was gone again. With a sunken heart, Caleb stared at the spot she occupied for a few moments until his radio buzzed again.

"Captain? Are you there?"

Caleb slowly reached for his radio and brought it up to his face.

"I'm here, Terra." Caleb weakly spoke into the radio.

"Do you have some time? I think we need to talk. I'm at the fitness center on deck five."

" _Yeah._ Yeah, I've got some time. I'll be there in a few."

"Sounds good, I'll be here."

With the exchange over, Caleb placed the radio back on his belt. He turned to face the expanse again before wiping his face with his jacket's sleeve. He fought the urge to vomit before pushing himself off the railing and turning to leave.

* * *

 **15 MINUTES LATER  
** **MCS REDEYE - FITNESS FACILITY**

Captain Orion stepped into the facility, taken aback by its retrofits. What was once a small cargo storage bay with a couple of weights strewn about was now a proper mini gym to accommodate crew member fitness plans.

Caleb began to wonder how much money the Republic spent on the ship. He also wondered why he was called there of all places. The ship had better places to talk, a bar, for example. At least there he could get a drink.

A plethora of soldiers and crewmen were littered around the efficiently used space, all partaking in several different routines. Free weights, weight machines, sparring, treads and more.

The pilot began to wander, searching for the Lieutenant.

"Wright?"

A few agitated heads popped up to investigate the source of the disturbance yet were quick to return to their workouts rather than face off with Orion.

"Captain! Over here." A taxed voice called out for him.

Caleb followed Wright's beckon until he found her, laying hate in the form of repeated kicks and punches to a suspended punching bag. She displayed a certain level of speed and aggression that didn't exactly fit her personality; but then again, she was a soldier, a pilot at that.

Regardless, he was just glad he wasn't on the receiving end of her barrage.

The Captain leaned against the adjacent wall, waiting for the Lieutenant to finish her routine. He tried analyzing her technique but couldn't seem to lock down a specific martial art as the Pilot used a broad mix.

"You kick box?"

"Apparently." Wright responded between her strikes.

Caleb tilted his head quizzically, not sure he understood the odd response.

"...Well...I mean you're thrashing that bag silly…"

Terra stopped, only after throwing an aggressive and explosive haymaker. She went for her water bottle.

"Yeah, that's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."

Caleb recoiled with a confused expression.

"Fighting?"

The Lieutenant chuckled lightly before taking a long swig.

"No, _but_ on that note, wanna go a round?" She tossed the water bottle aside and cocked a hip to the side, gesturing towards the fighting mat as she did.

"Umm. I feel like I'm at a bit of a distinct disadvantage here."

"Why's that?"

Caleb would never admit it, but he couldn't see a victory in his current state. He'd been out of practice with regards to hand to hand, and _certainly_ had too much to drink after Alexandria.

And most of all, the woman looked to be made of _Iron_. Her arms and legs were defined, even by a Militia Pilot's standards. Her core was toned as well. Caleb couldn't identify a weak point like he could with most people.

Not to mention her lethal-looking routine.

After analyzing the Lieutenant, he spoke.

"...Tanks and shorts are a bit more maneuverable than combat pants and boots."

" _Excuses, excuses_ , Captain."

" _Fine, fine._ " Caleb relented and unzipped his duty jacket, throwing it off to the side before unclipping his holster from his belt and placing the weapon down with his jacket. The Pilot removed everything from his pockets, every pouch from his belt and removed his watch. Soon the corner of the area was a small pile of Caleb's equipment.

With the extra weight discarded, Caleb slipped his hands into the spare set of MMA gloves that were _conveniently_ placed by the Lieutenant's water bottle. She'd planned for this. He sighed.

"Come on, it'll be fun." Wright assured, taking her place, raising her fists. "Ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready-" Just as the Captain turned, an immediate jab impacted the side of his face. He stumbled back. " _Argh, son of a-, Ugh!_ "

"... _Sorry_ , you said you were ready! Are you okay?"

" _Cheap shot_ , Wright." He flexed his jaw with a groan. "Jesus Christ, you hit like a fuckin' _truck!_ "

Caleb shook his head, regaining his bearings with an unimpressed grunt before taking up his close-quarters fighting posture.

Both fighters kept their distance, skeptical to launch in for an attack. Despite showing innate skill, Terra wasn't thrilled with the idea of rushing Captain Orion, who had a reputation for being a savage close-quarters fighter. Caleb, on the other hand, having received a blow as hard as he had just got, wasn't keen on seeing what else she could do.

"Well?" Caleb started, inching forward slowly, cautiously watching his opponent. "What did you want to talk about?"

The Captain exploded into action while awaiting a response, throwing a swift left hook which the Lieutenant easily dodged, ducking away from danger. Caleb took advantage of the withdrawal and raised his right fist for an uppercut. Terra swat away his fist, took a step back and retaliated with a head kick, sending her leg whipping towards the Captain.

With a split second to react, Caleb raised his arm, just barely blocking the blow with his wrist. With the fresh stitches and hard blows, the Captain winced and cursed under his breath while backing off from the assault. They'd barely traded blows and Caleb was already getting rocked.

Terra backed off for a moment as well, both fighters now reevaluating the other.

Though the Captain hadn't managed to get a hit in on her, he'd managed to deflect one of her inhumanely quick kicks, which alone intimidated her.

"How do I put this?" Terra questioned before muttering aloud to herself. " _Man, this was a lot easier with VC._ "

" _VC?_ What's this got to do with VC?" Caleb dropped his guard.

"Look, Sir, I can't remember things. A _lot_ of things."

Terra took advantage of his dropped guard, dashing in for a swift jab. The Captain swiftly caught wind, dodging and attempting to launch Wright over his shoulder. She resisted, however, in the form of a knee coming up and slamming into his gut.

Caleb grunted, collapsing to a knee with a laboured cough. He slammed a fist on the ground before forcing himself back up.

"Terra, what do you mean? I don't understand, you're not making much sense."

"I wasn't honest with you about Typhon. I wanted you to be confident in my skills and trust that I'd do well as a new pilot...So, I didn't tell you everything."

Caleb always felt there was something missing, but couldn't piece it together. Despite her starry-eyed nature and always looking for ways to be a better pilot, it seemed... _feigned_ to some degree, like she was trying to make up for lacking something else. At first, he just assumed she was being a kiss-ass on Harmony. It didn't make much sense to Caleb considering how viciously she fought on Alexandria and how well she fought now. She sure didn't seem like she needed any advice from an alcoholic, regardless of how new a pilot she was.

Then again, it wouldn't be the first time he'd been wrong.

This time, they both backed off, allowing for a more focused conversation. Unsure of exactly what to say, Caleb simply rotated his wrist, gesturing for her to continue.

"I got hurt on Typhon. I don't remember much, just a lot of fighting. Well, whatever happened...It messed me up pretty good. The Doctors and Iroh had to tell me pretty much _everything_. I can't remember my family, my home. But, I still remember how to fight real good...so there's that…?"

Something wasn't right. It wasn't necessarily that he doubted her ability, but why would President Day herself deploy _him_ , of all people, with Wright, who couldn't even remember where she was born. She'd been made a pilot after her injury on Typhon and was still given the responsibility of command. The whole thing bothered Caleb, on top of the enemy motive still escaping him.

Before he could dwell on it any longer, Terra spoke again, more sincere this time.

"I just wanted someone like _you_ to trust me. To trust that I could do this. After everything that Iroh told me, I saw you as a hero and figured that, even if I couldn't remember anything but fighting, at least you'd be able to help me serve the Republic and be as good a pilot."

Caleb had a familiar pang of guilt when she spoke again. She reminded him of what Barker had said to him not too long ago, and what he'd just said to his hallucination; wanting _more_ than just fighting. In addition, it was fair to say he was rather disappointing when it came to being a 'hero'.

"I can't remember anything, and I don't know how I'm supposed to lead these men and women against _Apex Predators._ "

Caleb stood awkwardly while thinking of what to say. He wasn't exactly sure how to comfort the Lieutenant other than to level with her. He wasn't good with this sort of thing, but figured maybe some sort of empathy would work.

"I know what it's like to lose." Caleb finally spoke after some hesitation. " _Everything._ "

"I _know._ " Terra answered in a low tone.

Caleb looked up immediately, a sharp look of surprise on his face. The mixed expression of pity and sympathy painted on Terra's face let Orion know - she truly knew. _Everything_. He fought the urge to protest, to demand how and what she knew, but figured it wouldn't do any good. She had mentioned VC earlier and figured it was more than likely his mechanical friend that had revealed much about him, for one reason or another.

"... _You what?_ "

Wright looked at the ground, avoiding eye contact with the Captain. The two stood in silence for a minute while Caleb struggled to find a way to handle the situation.

"...Then you know that I'm not a hero. I just survived."

"Don't sell yourself short." Terra commanded.

"You first." Caleb shot back, a bit more vitriolic than he wanted.

Terra scowled and crossed her arms.

"I'll hit you again, _Sir._ "

Caleb _chuckled_. Terra stared back with a stunned expression. He was laughing. She'd opened up to him and he was laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing...It's nothing...Just something a friend used to say..."

With that, the two fell silent again. Terra removed her gloves and took a seat at the bench surrounding the corner of the room. The newer pilot sighed and grabbed her water bottle and took a long swig of water before watching Captain Orion fiddle on the spot, like an old computer struggling to do, well, _anything_.

Caleb sat down next to her with an exhausted sigh. It took the man a few moments to say anything before he spoke. Caleb kept his eyes forward, too intimidated by the thought of getting too personal. He overcame the brief fear and turned to face her.

"Look. Terra. You wouldn't be here if the Republic didn't think you could do this. There are thousands of Pilots and Officers in the Militia, and they chose you. That has to mean something."

"Then why would Day send you? After everything you've been apart of, everything you've done. Why are _you_ here on an investigation rather than fighting on the frontlines? Who are you to President Day? _What are you doing here?!_ "

It was a good question. They all were. However, they were questions he didn't have the answers to. The man gave her a blank stare, followed by a subtle delayed shrug.

"...I don't know."

"Do you even _want_ to be here?"

Caleb hesitated. Were he to be honest, he would rather be on the search for leads, maybe drinking himself to death. But then again, he accepted the mission without question. After a moment of silence, he answered firm.

"Yes."

"One more question, and I'll stop giving you the third degree."

"Send it."

"Do you think you can trust me?"

Captain Orion found himself shocked at first, finding the question odd. However, he understood that with her lack of memory and her self doubt, she'd believe others would not trust her to take command. She needed his trust, and though they hadn't known each other long, she'd proven herself an effective partner.

"We're supposed to be a team. I trust you."

"...Okay...Thank you."

"Then let me ask you. Can you bring yourself to trust _me?_ "

Terra flinched, not expecting the man to flip the conversation on her again. "...Why do you ask?"

"I know you feel let down. And you can't convince me that you don't. I'm sure a lot of the men do too. I'm not James MacAllan. And I'm not Jack Cooper. I'm not some super talented Pilot that's gonna save the Militia or whatever. I'm just a man that survived. No hero. Can you accept that?"

"...You said it yourself. We're supposed to be a team."

Caleb nodded slowly.

"A team." Terra repeated, nodding in agreeance before extending her hand.

Caleb looked down quizzically before taking her hand and giving it a shake.

"A team. Now come on, show me a couple of those punches-"

From the pile of gear in the other corner, Caleb's radio crackled, loudly broadcasting Captain McKay's voice.

"Captain Orion, this is Captain McKay, I need to see you on the Bridge. Bring Lieutenant Wright with you."

Caleb stood up and retrieved his radio after giving the other officer a confused look.

"Roger, we'll be up in a few-"

" _We've got them._ "

* * *

 **FIVE MINUTES LATER  
MCS REDEYE  
COMMAND BRIDGE**

Caleb stormed into the Bridge, followed closely by Lieutenant Wright. McKay watched the two enter and offered a stern nod to the two from behind his command station.

"What do we got?" Caleb asked.

McKay straightened his posture and gestured to the tactical display in the center of the room.

"Looks like they couldn't wait to make another hit, they're in the process of attacking an IMC Carrier."

" _An IMC Carrier_? Are they fucking crazy?" Caleb closely inspected the display for further information.

"Maybe not as crazy as we may think. The ship was orbiting a small planet called Athens, meeting with a small resupply freighter which has since been destroyed. They knew exactly what to target, they forced the ship down and are in the process of taking the ship by force, and judging by the lack of IMC reinforcements, I'd say it's likely they've jammed their communications."

"What could they possibly hope to achieve attacking a ship that size?" Terra asked, looking just as baffled as Caleb.

"Supplies, I'd wager if the freighter is anything to go by. Small arms, dropships, Titans. A ship like that has to be swimming in armaments." McKay pointed to a holographic representation of an IMC Sentinel Class Carrier and its respective specifications. It was as good a guess as any, McKay had a history of being correct.

Whether or not its doctrinal compliment was actually aboard due to the war's cost on the IMC was up for debate...regardless, the ship would benefit any party that could siege it.

"Depends on the ship." Caleb spoke from experience. "What ship are they hitting, McKay?"

"Sensors have it pinged as the IMS Arrowhead."

Caleb froze and stared at the monitor with intensity. Both Terra and McKay watched the Pilot's fists tighten as his eyes raided the screen for information.

"What is it?" The Redeye's Captain asked.

"It's nothing." The tense man coldly responded; his body language and quick, snappy response both screaming the opposite.

"Must be supplies. Other than the account of that Marauder on Alexandria, we've only seen them hitting Militia installations." Terra commented while watching her partner carefully.

"I've got an idea, we have our orders...let's go find out." Caleb turned to leave the room.

McKay was quick to stop the man, providing more intelligence before he recklessly left. "Orion. The Arrowhead was forced to _land_ , _not_ shot down - expect a heavy IMC presence on top of those Mercenaries."

"Understood. I'll take Wright and her men to scout it out."

"If you need it, you've got Titan support. Don't know if you'll be able to get them inside, but the option's there. In the interest of not burying you under shrapnel and steel, I'm going to limit fire support from the Redeye's batteries and fighter compliment."

"Right. C'mon, Terra."

"Got it."

The two fled the room with haste, walking in relative silence. It was Terra that probed the man for a response as they walked the halls. She tugged at his jacket, getting him to look over his shoulder and slow down.

"So what's the problem with that ship? You don't seem thrilled. At all."

Caleb sighed before giving in. She already knew pretty much everything, might as well continue being open with his newfound trust in his partner.

"I served on that ship. It's where I met Allison. Well, after we got shot up planet-side."

"Oh…"

"Never thought I'd see that ship again."

"You don't have to go down there. I can take this one."

"In your shorts and tank-top? No, it's time for Lance Corporal Orion to come home. It's been long enough."

"What, I don't look good?" Terra quipped back, gesturing to herself. "If you're sure, let me go grab some _real_ fightin' clothes and I'll meet you at the dropship bay in ten. Armour stops bullets, abs don't. I'll radio Iroh and get the lads ready."

Caleb simply nodded and made his way to the hangar after a quick stop to the medical bay where he'd left his gear in a heap the day prior.

Soon enough the two Militia officers reconvened, both dressed in their olive-drab Militia equipment.

"Ready?" Terra asked while pulling her helmet over her head.

"Yeah." The Captain's voice was monotone as he tightened the sight screws atop his rifle.

"You gonna be alright down there?" She asked, one last time.

"I'll be alright, let's just not be there any longer than we have to." Caleb answered while opening a magazine pouch from his belt. He inspected the top of the magazine, ensuring the rounds were seated properly before bringing it towards his weapon for loading.

"Okay. Just let me know. I've got your back."

Caleb paused for a moment, nearly dropping the magazine from his hand. He stopped to look at the Lieutenant as she walked towards the fleet of Crow dropships, barking a series of commands to her soldiers.

" _Caleb?_ "

VC's robotic voice chimed in over Caleb's helmet radio, snapping him back to reality.

"Go ahead, pal."

" _Your heart rate has increased significantly, are you alright?_ "

" _...I...don't know._ "

The soldier experienced a brief shiver. He was a scared kid again. Knowing Terra and all those men were looking for his guidance all while looking up to him, and in Terra's case; _looking out for him_ directly, frightened him. Now was one of those times Caleb was glad he wore a helmet so often, as without it, anyone could see how he truly felt.

He was _scared_.

" _I will monitor your vitals, be safe._ "

" _Yeah._..Yeah, I'll keep you posted..."

Caleb fed the magazine into his rifle and racked the action to the rear and allowed it to go forward. Placing the weapon on safe, Caleb tried to shake off any fear and marched his way over to Wright's dropship.

He silently stepped aboard, passing the men who he had believed he'd previously let down. Their nods of approval and quips speaking otherwise.

" _Told you he wouldn't stay down._ "

" _It'll take more than some freak to keep this guy on the ground._ "

Typically, one might find the whispers of praise intoxicating or motivating. However, they scared Captain Orion even more. Even in failure, they found some way to put him on a pedestal, and that was incredibly dangerous. There were some men aware of this. Sergeant Krauss and Warrant Iroh among the few. Both men watched the Pilot with caution and intense scrutiny as he boarded.

The Militia Captain ignored their gaze and made his way to the front of the dropship, taking his place next to Terra as the fleet prepared to depart.

"McKay, it's Orion. We're ready."

"Roger that, take it slow, maybe try and let the two factions kill each other off a bit. We'll monitor you from above. Good luck."

"Aye." Caleb simply responded.

Shortly, the line of dropships raced out of the hangar, descending towards the planet below. Eventually, the massive IMC vessel came into view, resting in massive rock canyon with counter ship battery scoring along the sides. Towards the bow, a handful of IMC fighter craft engaged their attackers, putting up a stalwart defence. Luckily for the Militia, they were still far enough away to avoid detection from either side.

The all-too-familiar sound of distant gunfire and explosions raged throughout the surface and within the Carrier itself, muffled by distance and containment.

Caleb took the time to observe the massive ship. While the Arrowhead had sustained some damage, it certainly wasn't enough to kill her. Her engines were damaged enough to force a landing, that much was clear, but she suffered no more than a few hull breaches.

Other than that, the ship was exactly as Captain Orion remembered it.

As the chatter picked up in the dropship, Caleb gazed out the window, focusing solely on the Arrowhead. She'd gotten old. The IMC Carrier had seen its share of deployments around the Frontier and the last five years were anything but kind.

The man found himself reading the painted _ARROWHEAD_ along the hull over and over. The scorched hull held his attention for a great deal of time as the Militia force approached carefully, reconnoitering from a safe distance.

" _Caleb?_ "

The Captain looked up, seeing Allison standing there, fiddling with her hands and watching him with concern on her face. The man blinked and Terra took her place. His helmet covered gaze lingered for a moment, prompting the Lieutenant to speak again.

"What's on your mind?"

Caleb turned his head to the window again, not quite ready to confess to her that he saw his dead girlfriend everywhere almost everyday. Although, she'd proven herself smart, and if his display in the medical ward was any indication, she may have already figured it out.

Regardless, he avoided speaking truthfully as he typically would.

"...Just...A lot of memories I didn't want to dig up. I remember playing bullshit, an old card game, with my best friend in the mess on that ship. Going to the shooting range to stay fresh...The stale air of the crew barracks."

He let out a small chuckle.

"There was one time my friend stole a challenge coin from the Company Commander's desk. He was freaking out and I stored it in my barracks box to try and keep him out of trouble. I got shredded to ribbons. Extras, contract deductions, you name it. I disappointed Keller so much."

Terra simply listened to him speak, relishing at the moment she thought would never come. Captain Orion talking openly.

"But he was my brother, and I didn't want him to get in trouble."

"What was his name?"

" _Philip_. We both came from Nye and joined together. He died taking a bullet for me."

" _I'm_...sorry...He sounded like a good man." Terra had known about the man just as VC had told her, but would never cut Orion off.

Caleb sighed behind his helmet before looking back out at the carrier. They were getting close. His rambling and remembrance would have to wait.

"He was." He answered before approaching the cockpit and placing a hand on the shoulder of the Crow dropship pilot.

"Put us down on top of the Carrier towards the stern, try to keep us out of sight of both the mercs and the IMC."

" _On top_ , Sir?" The pilot glanced over his shoulder.

"It'll cover our infil and if we need to pop smoke fast, we'll meet you on the starboard side hull breach."

The pilot looked to his co-pilot and shrugged before giving a thumbs up.

"Roger that, Sir. We'll get you on that Carrier."

The fleet of Crows performed as instructed, flying dangerously close to one another towards the stern of the IMS Arrowhead. Atop the massive war machine was a Titan-sized hull breach likely made by an enemy fighter. For a semi-covert infiltration, it was a perfect advantage. That would be their way in.

"Thinking what I'm thinking?" Terra asked, pointing towards the hull breach having taken notice of Caleb's focus.

"Absolutely. Get your men to prep the zips."

Terra nodded, bringing her wrist communicator up to her face while stepping out of the cockpit.

"Alright, boys, who's ready to fly on a zipline? I sure am! We're gonna drop right into this big-ass ship and play it conservatively. We close in on the mercs and let em' have it. Hooah?"

A loud hooah recited into the platoon net as a response.

"You heard the lady, boys. Time for some hazard pay, _ready up_." Sergeant Krauss prepared his squad within the confines of their dropship.

The interior of the shuttle was suddenly deafening with the sounds of bolts and slides being partially cocked to the rear with Militia soldiers conducting their final press-checks on their rifles and side-arms.

One by one, the dropships touched down and dropped their ramps, letting a Platoon of Militia soldiers pour out into their standard defensive posture with a handful of fireteams carrying zipline pylons towards the hull breach.

The Militia soldiers planted their pylons at the base and secured them, firing a cable into the steel depths below while a fireteam watched the chasm for contact. A Militia rifleman tested the stability of the cable and was about to depart down the line before being stopped by Orion.

"Age before beauty." He mumbled, slowly approaching the hull breach. "I'll go first."

The rifleman stepped back, allowing the Captain to go first.

Caleb glanced down the hole and back to his platoon.

"I'll let you know when it's clear." He spoke to Terra who approached the chasm for the first time, taking a long look downward.

"You sure?" She asked, seeming displeased with his idea.

"Better than committing the whole group immediately."

Terra nodded and trusted her partner's decision.

Caleb approached the breach, preparing to leap in. Staring into the darkness, hearing familiar voices calling to him.

"... _Finally coming home? Go ahead, Caleb. We're all waiting for you..._ "

The pilot took one last look below and one last deep breath before stepping into the chasm, letting the black abyss swallow him and allowing gravity to bring him racing towards the bottom. The wind produced by his speed blew the fabrics of his uniform around, blowing his sleeves up by his elbows. His helmet dampened the normally deafening sound of wind resistance against his armor and body.

As he reached the bottom, Orion's jumpkit engaged, thrusting him upward. The sudden jolt of energy in the complete opposite direction always made him nauseous. A moment later his boots made contact with the interior of the IMS Arrowhead for the first time in over five years with a loud clang. He leveled his G2, scanning for immediate threats, prepared to engage the first thing he saw.

Empty.

" _Welcome home._ "

Caleb spun around, waving the battle rifle frantically to meet whoever was speaking to him. Still empty. The Pilot waited and listened. He lightly tapped the side of his helmet, telling himself to focus.

As he had hoped, most of the fighting was towards the bow now, or at least had been on lower decks if the distant screaming and gunfire was anything to go by.

" _All clear?_ " Terra's voice came in over the radio.

Caleb took a few moments to respond, enthralled by the surroundings.

"Clear."

Terra landed shortly after the all-clear was given, landing in a similar fashion as he had. She was swiftly followed by the first wave of fast ropers down the zipline, including Krauss and Iroh. The Militia soldiers hesitantly took up their security positions. For many of them, it'd been their first time on an IMC ship. Mixed with the presence of their new foes, it was an intensely unpleasant experience.

"So, where the hell are we?" Sergeant Krauss asked, taking in the vast halls.

"A maintenance junction, close to the top of the ship. Crew quarters are in the middle, both level and lengthwise. The administration deck is just below that. Hangar on these ships is closer to the front, and the bridge is well ahead of that."

"Where do we start?"

Caleb pondered. He had to get close to the enemy, but certainly wasn't keen on jumping in while the IMC was still in full force. They would have to get closer but far enough away to avoid joining the pitched battle.

"Crew quarters. The mercs swept through homes to look for survivors back on Alexandria, it's safe to bet they'll try the same thing. We'll try there, take out any mercs and move on. If we're unlucky there, we'll sweep the admin deck and then move to either the hangar or storage."

"That may take too long." Iroh interjected.

Caleb glanced up at the Warrant.

"They moved fast at Alexandria, I fear they may be long gone by the time we move through this ship."

"What are you suggesting?" Terra tilted her head, sensing he had a point to make.

"Let me take three-section and the heavy weapons team and start heading for the Hangar. If we can set up a Killzone there, we might be able to catch the Mercs before they head out. Dish out some real damage. You and the platoon commander can take the remainder and sweep the decks."

"No." Caleb answered immediately and curtly. "We're not splitting the group for a chance like that. We'll play it safe and slow as a whole group."

"Sir, all due respect, it's not your call to make." Krauss was quick to back Iroh up and remind the Captain of who had command of the platoon.

"I don't remember asking for permission, _Sergeant._ " Caleb hissed.

"Gents, now's not the time." Terra started, regaining command swiftly. "Iroh, take what you need and do it. But _do not_ engage unless given direct orders by myself. Report what you see and keep your distance, we don't need to lose anyone else."

"Yes, Ma'am." Iroh nodded and departed, taking the elements required to complete his task.

Caleb watched half of the platoon depart, completely dumbfounded at what had transpired. Every one of them had seen the enemy capabilities on Alexandria and now the risk was doubled with IMC Marines and Pilots in the mix. And yet, Iroh was keen on taking the risky route without either Pilot accompanying them.

"Ready to go?" Terra asked.

Discontent with the decision, Caleb grunted and started to move. "Let's get this done."

The group slowly and meticulously patrolled the darkened inner halls of the Arrowhead, flinching at every sound in the distance. Emergency lights beamed red waves onto their green uniforms and reflected off of their raised weapons, highlighting the soldiers every few moments.

Two riflemen led the group, following the directions given to them by their resident expert. In the middle of the group stood Caleb and Terra with Krauss not far behind giving commands to their rearward security. The Infantry Sergeant glanced over his shoulder, watching Captain Orion closely before muttering to himself.

" _Good thing we brought a compass._ "

Spare the distant gunfire and screams and the occasional spark of failing electronic systems, it had been quiet in their area. Caleb couldn't hear any of it, however. His focus had been entirely on directing the group through the familiar hallways. As much as he despised the IMC for what they had done to him and the Frontier, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease seeing the Arrowhead damaged as she was. It was a goliath and yet here it sat, besieged by what could be mercenaries often hired by the IMC.

Terra grabbed his shoulder and gave him a light tug, making him turn to face her.

" _Scared to lose anyone else? Remember how that turned out last time?_ " Allison's voice criticized him.

" _What?_ " Caleb shook his arm free.

"I said; I know you think it's a bad call but you gotta trust me. I trusted your leap of faith, remember?"

Caleb stared blankly at her for a moment before shaking his head.

"...I know, but this is _different_. We may be winning but the IMC aren't pushovers. Plus, with those freaks out there, I hate the idea of minimizing our firepower." Caleb ended the discussion there, continuing to follow the pointmen through the Arrowhead.

Terra scoffed quietly to herself, knowing full well ' _firepower'_ wasn't why he was so concerned.

In time, they started to find the bodies and blood. IMC Marines, service personnel, scrapped Spectres, all littering the hallways with a sea of spent casings and bullet holes scoring the walls.

However what caught Captain Orion's attention the most were the handful of bodies that weren't IMC. The familiar black uniforms of their attackers.

"Well, it looks like the IMC is doing better than us." Krauss observed, referencing the lack of killed enemies on Alexandria. The man kicked one of the deceased hostiles as he passed by.

Caleb stopped, taking a knee by one of the fallen. He searched the pockets while observing their uniforms and weapons once again. L-Stars, R201s, Hemloks. Not cheap by any means.

He found nothing noteworthy, however. With a sigh, he carried on, close to their objective.

Shortly after their brief stop, the pointmen gave a halt hand signal, pointing his rifle towards an open hatchway, its light spilling into the dark hallway.

"Captain, open door up ahead, left side." The lead rifleman reported.

"That's our objective. Stack up." Caleb commanded.

"Roger."

Caleb joined the group amassing by the door, waiting to enter.

"Send the squeeze."

The man in the rear of the stack squeezed the tricep of the man in front of him, continuing to the front, signaling each man was ready. By the front man's lead, the swarm of Militiamen entered the room, weapons raised.

"Right clear!"

"Left clear!"

With the room clear, each soldier could take in their surroundings with greater attention to detail. Caleb, however, didn't need to do much focusing, he recognized his old room almost immediately. He slowly marched to the back left corner of the large room.

Much of the room was filled with overturned cots and half-dressed dead men who had been caught unprepared by their relentless enemy. The sound of open taps from the communal showers still lingered in the background, as did a series of alarms, blaring to dead men.

"Poor bastards never even had a chance." One of the Militia soldiers mumbled while searching for anything of note.

Caleb ignored the comment and stared blankly at a lone cot in the back of the room.

Terra came marching into the room, investigating what her soldiers discovered. She reeled upon seeing the bloodbath and moved to the security of Captain Orion, who had been standing rigid in the back, his sight never leaving one particular bed.

"What is it?" She asked, seeing no significance in the cot.

"...Something isn't right. Why attack this ship?" He spoke, answering her question with another.

"I still reckon supplies." She shrugged.

"They could attack _any ship_ for that. Militia...IMC...doesn't matter. The IMC alone has dozens of ships still operational out here...Maybe even in this system. So, why attack _this_ ship?"

"What are you thinking?"

Caleb brushed off his thoughts as unlikely and got to his feet, gesturing towards the door.

"It's nothing. Let's get a move on."

The Captain replaced the riflemen upfront, now leading the group through the innards, subconsciously increasing their pace significantly. Luckily enough for the Militia, they made no contact with any IMC or 'Apex' forces while traversing to the deck below.

Much of the administrative deck had been torn to pieces, raided for intelligence by their foe. The group spent as much time as they needed to go room to room, searching for any sort of lead.

Eventually, their search led them to a series of offices tucked away in the recesses of the deck. Main command staff by the looks of it. Company commanders, Captain's quarters, the war room, and several other high profile offices.

Caleb broke off from the group, with Terra unsurprisingly following close behind.

He paused outside one office, a look of malice growing on his face.

On the hatchway bore a large plate with black lettering, claiming ownership of the office to one _Colonel Kenneth Maren_.

Caleb looked up at the panel with intense disgust. His grip tightened around his rifle.

"After five god damn years, they still have this asshole's name plastered on everything."

"Since Demeter, we've had the upper hand, it's a fair assumption they just haven't gotten a replacement yet."

Caleb grunted and slid the hatchway open, letting his G2 hang and raising his Wingman simultaneously. He stepped in first, finding the office trashed and extremely dusty. The only intact object was the terminal on the main desk.

The holographic display had been activated and remained on standby. Its light blue glow illuminated the dark office, highlighting the extent of damage the interior had received. It looked as if a tornado had gone through.

"Looks like they beat us here." Orion mumbled while examining the room.

"That, or the crew hated this guy as much as, or more than you did."

"Hard to top me in that regard."

Caleb shoved his Wingman back into its holster and made way for the terminal on Maren's desk.

"Let's see if we can figure out what they're doing here."

The Pilot immediately got to work, typing away at the keypad.

Wright slowly patrolled the room while Caleb worked, examining the slew of medals and photos littered about. The crunch of glass under her boot made her pause and look down. A black picture frame with a shattered face sat on the floor amongst the other scrap. Terra squatted down, taking hold of the frame as she did. She turned it over to inspect the image, seeing a squad of IMC Pilots gathered for a pre-mission photo.

The man in the middle, the oldest, she could safely assume was the prior owner of the office she and the Captain had been investigating. The man that was responsible for much of the physical and psychological torment Caleb Orion had endured. The rest were unrecognizable to her spare one woman standing next to the Colonel. She'd seen the woman's jet black hair and emerald eyes once before, dressed in Militia olive drab and caked in the stains of warfare in a picture with Captain Orion himself.

This was Captain Allison Sorin.

There wasn't a smile on her face this time, however. A blank, emotionless stare plastered her face, giving Terra an eerie feeling. Her almost _lifeless_ green eyes, beaming a thousand-yard stare broadcasted the horrors of war that they'd seen. Whether or not she was the victim or perpetrator of some of those horrors, Terra would never know.

Her posture was straight, unnaturally so, seeming as if she was completely unburdened by the grey suit that hugged her body uncomfortably or the plethora of equipment hanging from her belt and tactical webbing. She clutched a weathered G2A4 battle rifle by her side, the same one carried by Orion every day and the same one wielded by herself on Alexandria. The elite IMC warrior was tall, taller than most in the photo except Maren and one other Pilot.

The image hardly painted the picture of an innocent thrust into war, rather, it painted that of an efficient killing _machine_ without remorse. Here, she looked more in line with VC's description of her.

The eerie feeling returned to Terra.

She flipped the image over, revealing a white backing with some black ink text printed on.

" _Never forget what you're fighting for._ _Get the bastard._ "

Lieutenant Wright glanced up at Captain Orion, who stood motionless behind the monitor at the desk. She couldn't see his expression or know for certain what he was thinking behind the helmet, but she could say for certain he was extremely uncomfortable.

"...They accessed the supply manifest...and personnel files." Caleb finally spoke again as if awakened by her stare.

Terra placed the picture gently back onto a shelf before joining the Captain.

"That confirms the supply run, but why would they do _that?_ "

"Either whoever they're looking for is IMC...or was. They've got access to the entire fleet's records."

"How do they have access from a _Pilot's terminal_ on some _random carrier_?"

"Either they tortured the Captain into giving them access or someone on their end is a really quick and efficient hacker."

It seemed their foe was more than just effective on the battlefield.

"Who were they looking for?"

"No way to know for sure, but a load of files have been recently opened...and unless someone else has conveniently done this, in this specific office in the last five years since Maren was killed, I'd say we've got a pretty good chance at narrowing it down. They've accessed dozens of files. KIA, MIA, active... _deserters_ …"

"What's wrong?" Terra asked, catching how Caleb lingered on his last words.

" _James MacAllan, Marcus Graves, Barker_ … _Eric_ _Keller_...and-"

Caleb's posture straightened, and even his helmet couldn't hide the small, audible gasp for air.

Terra came around the desk to better observe what caught the man off guard.

The display showed a young, IMC Marine donning the classic grey fatigues, contrasting the current issued white and grey digital camouflage that the IMC now donned. Clean-shaven, no scars, well kept. The hint of a coy smile on his face. Across the top of the screen, his particulars had been listed. The list started with his name and rank.

 _Lance Corporal Caleb Orion._

The list continued, citing his place and date of birth, his blood type, a handful of service-related intelligence and ending with the fact that he was wanted for treason.

" _Me._ " Caleb finally muttered.

Terra leaned in, observing the display more closely, barely recognizing the young man. The stark contrast surprised both of them.

"You were cute for an IMC _stormtrooper_ , but I doubt that's why they took a peak." Terra quipped, attempting, and failing, to ease the mind of the shocked Militia pilot standing next to her.

"As do I."

"So the question remains. What the hell do they want?"

"I don't know."

"Well...A large chunk of our leadership or elite troops are defectors from the IMC. Hell, wasn't President Day even a company woman herself?"

"What's your point?"

"They may be looking for correlations. If you all know high ranking Militia officials, they'll search their way up the chain until they find who they're looking for."

Caleb went silent and looked back to the screen, contemplating Terra's theory.

" _That_...or they just wanna kill you all. Both are equally likely."

"You make a fair point." Caleb agreed.

"You know there are a couple dozen of em' runnin' around we could ask nicely. Rather than contemplating."

"You make another good point. Come on, time for a little payback."

On their way out, Captain Orion paused, spotting something in the corner of the room. He overturned a collection of debris, including a shattered weapon cabinet, retrieving a dusty, old model Hemlok BF-R with an HCOG mounted on the rail.

One of Maren's rifles no doubt.

" _Asshole always liked his Hemlok rifles._ " Caleb muttered while retrieving whatever ammunition was left in the locker, which amounted to three partial magazines.

"You're not taking _that thing_ with you, are you?"

"Better for close quarters than a full-length G2." Caleb justified his choice while slinging his G2 over his shoulder and taking full hold of the green battle rifle.

He sat a magazine into the weapon, handling it gently as if it were some artifact of a long-forgotten age.

Caleb couldn't imagine how many people the weapon he held killed in the hands of Colonel Maren, but only one thing was certain.

He was going to use it against whoever got in their way.

.

.

.

.

* * *

 _A/N: "Oh god, Dan's making excuses again!"_

Hey everybody, I know it's been a while but I hope you're still enjoying the story. I owe you guys an explanation as to why the updates have been so far apart. I didn't really want to bring it up, but I'm in the Military. Shocker, I'm sure. I never brought that up because I didn't want any credit or anything like that and also didn't want it to heavily influence or restrict the content (didn't really turn out in my favour), but with the constant gaps in upload times, I figured now was a decent time to bring it up. I've been in for about four and a half years now and it's been especially busy in the last year and a half. Mixed with friends, hobbies, and life in general (including a severe case of writer's block - _again_ ), the story took a long break. In addition, I've been working on a story that I'd like to publish as its own separate entity (you might see some familiar faces in there *cough* _JackCarver_ *cough*). The progress on that is very slow as I've got to make an entire world and all its inner workings.

 _I've also been playing a lot of Apex Legends..._

But on the bright side, I did spend a great deal of time working on this story and tweaking some story points. Hope to bring those out soon to you guys.

So that's pretty much the update, not looking to make up excuses but that's what's been going on with me in the last little while. I hope you guys understand why I didn't bring that up and hope that it at the very least clarifies why I've been taking my sweet ass time getting these chapters up.

But, as always, thank you for your patience and continued support, friends.


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